


Y Dewin a'r meddyliau eraill

by leviathans_moon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathans_moon/pseuds/leviathans_moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a human condition to push away things we don’t understand through the use of violence, disgust and fear. Merlin encounters all three when he is shut away in a psychiatric asylum as a result of his magic. The only two things keeping him sane is that his twin sister Morgana escaped the same destiny and that there is someone who doesn’t shy away from him, someone who takes Merlin for who he is and only asks the same in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Fic: Y Dewin a'r meddyliau eraill - Part 1**_  
 **Title:** Y Dewin a'r meddyliau eraill  
 **Author:** leviathans_moon  
 **Artist:** elen_ancalima  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Words:** 38,5k  
 **Genre:** modern!AU, angst  
 **Warning:** strong language, non-con, mentions of possible abuse, mentions of drugs, mentions of psychological illnesses  
 **Summary:** It is a human condition to push away things we don’t understand through the use of violence, disgust and fear. Merlin encounters all three when he is shut away in a psychiatric asylum as a result of his magic. The only two things keeping him sane is that his twin sister Morgana escaped the same destiny and that there is someone who doesn’t shy away from him, someone who takes Merlin for who he is and only asks the same in return.  
 **Disclaimer:** Merlin belongs to the BBC and Shine. I'm not making money with this. it's just for fans from a fan.  
 **Author's Notes:** This was a long and excruciating process which I couldn't have done without the help of the following awesome people.  
My cheerleaders carolinmescalin(the official one*g* who gave my ice cream*-* and especially helped me with the summary *squishes*), rei17, tsutsumi, hope_calaris, kleine_aster who are my friends in RL and were sort of dragged into this whether they wanted to or not, everyone in the paperpushers chat, and everyone of my flisters who cheered me on:) hugs for all.  
My awesome, awesome, MacAwesome, supermegafoxyawesomehot beta - shiny4love: who is all kinds of awesome.  
My also very awesome artist - elen_ancalima- check out her work, it's gorgeous and very fitting to the story (in my humble opinion*g*). And leave her a comment.  
and last but not least, all the awesome peeps on my flist who gave me music for inspiration and partly for the fanmix - chaosmaka, rei17, caliena, tahariel, reogulus, loveandthetruth, schwarze_elster, ada_c_eliana, tama_abi and I hope I haven't forgotten anyone.

Last but certainly not least - I'm not a psychologist, I'm not a psychiatrist. I do know a few psychologists and I did ask them a few questions, but in no way am I pretending that this is academically, scientifically, whatever-ly correct and I ask my readers to keep that in mind.  
As T.S. Elliott so wonderfully said: _suspension of disbelief_  
Have fun reading.

 

 **Story Art:** [here](http://elen-ancalima.livejournal.com/164345.html)

 **Story Fanmix:**   
[here](http://leviathans-moon.livejournal.com/124291.html)

~~~

  
They had been children once. Normal children, as children should be. Carefree, playful, doted on by their mother. That’s what Morgana kept telling him. And every time she told him, he wanted to believe her. The truth is, though the concept of truth seems somewhat debatable in his current situation; but the truth is he does not remember his childhood as a happy one. Sure, they had laughed, they had been fairly protected from harm and suffering and he had never felt lonely. Carefree though was a concept that didn’t come with the feeling of a shadow as your constant companion. Doted on by your mother meant a loving look in her eyes. Playful didn’t mean playing hide-and-seek in someone else’s garden because you didn’t dare to go home.

So when Dr. Jal asks him whether he had a happy childhood, he forgets all about that and believes his sister. She’s always right anyway.

“Yes, normal.”

“I asked whether it was happy.” Dr. Jal made a note on the pretentious notepad.

“Well, most of the things considered not normal in childhood are unhappy things, so by saying normal I mean happy. Happy in a normal non-exotic household, neighbourhood and country.”

Another note. Merlin imagined it to say something like ‘avoiding the question, possible childhood trauma’.

“How would you describe your relationship with your sister?”

“In how many words?” Merlin looked out of the window. She was lying on the lawn outside, waiting for visiting hours. It had become obvious that her entire day revolved around these visiting hours. Merlin frowned. He shouldn’t be here.

Her head lay on her backpack, barely visible beneath her dark hair. The people passing her took no notice. A woman enjoying the spring breeze; but Merlin saw the ripples in the grass surrounding her, all converging on her in a way that hovered between natural and unnatural. The breeze was calming the storm that was raging inside her, trying to blow away all of her bad thoughts and worries and all of her hate. She raised her arm as if to swat at a fly and Merlin turned his head.

“She’s my twin.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.” The look was one a know-it-all teacher gives a five-year-old who said six forty-five instead of quarter to seven and Merlin had exactly two words to describe Dr. Jal. Condescending and ignorant. With emphasis on the ‘and’, because it made it a touch more negative.

“I think it does,” said Merlin and focused his attention on his shoes. Condescending was counteracted with uninterested. Merlin knew it was childish and not helping him, but he’d never get out of here anyway, he knew he wouldn’t. So what was the point?

“With your mother?”

“Normal.”

“Your father?”

“Take a guess.”

Dr. Jal sighed. “Mr. Dewin, I’m not going to be able to help you-“

“If I don’t cooperate, I know.”

“Then why won’t you?” There was the condescending look again. Merlin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in grand teenage-style.

“You know, I’m pretty sure that pointing out my defects is not the best way to get me to talk to you.” He really needed new shoes. The sole was coming off of these ones, soon to be only a harassing appendage that would need to be cut off.

“Mr. Dewin?”

Merlin looked up and saw annoyance in Dr. Jal’s eyes. “I asked how often you practice ‘magic’.” Dr. Jal might as well have raised his hands and indicated the patronizing quotations mark obvious in his speech. Merlin’s face hardened. He was here, yes. Nothing he could do to change that. He didn’t know how to reverse time…yet. But he refused to indulge in this man’s impression that his magic was a psychological disease that needed to be squashed like an annoying beetle. That his magic was no more than a wild fantasy of an 18-year-old afraid to live in the real world.

It was not a dangerous delusion that stopped him from functioning in the normal world. He had functioned quite well. It was the normal world that hadn’t worked accordingly. The hot anger that had been boiling just under the surface ever since he had been brought here yesterday afternoon threatened to break out. Merlin gripped the edge of the chair to restrain himself. Tears started to surge forward and Merlin tried to blink them away. He was not going to lose control. He. Was. Not. A stone hit the window and Dr. Jal jumped up and ran towards it, looking ready to shout obscenities at whichever child or patient had thrown the stone. He couldn’t find a victim.

When he turned back towards the room Merlin sat quite composed on his chair, watching his shoes again.

“I see we are not getting anywhere today. Let’s convene this session tomorrow, same time.”

  
~

  
“You cannot bring a rat into the building!”

Morgana stared at the receptionist incredulously. “What rat?”

“Do not think me stupid, young lady! You cannot get into this building with the rat.” The receptionist, Mrs. Harrington, had had an exhausting day already. Her sixteen-year-old daughter had come home at three in the morning on a school night, acting outrageously drunk, make-up streaking down her face and there were stains on her dress that looked a lot like vomit. Mrs. Harrington didn’t care to get close enough to find out whether it really was vomit. In the morning, her son had called her stupid for not knowing that her own daughter had been going to parties in the middle of the week for several months now. In her anger she nearly ran over a biker with her car on her way to work, but instead swerved and crashed into a park bench at the side of the road where there was no park in sight. She got into work over an hour late, her computer had been playing up all day, the school called right in the middle of her boss yelling at her to tell her that her daughter wasn’t there and now here was this young woman who honestly thought that the rat would go unnoticed.

The young woman flicked her long black hair back. The rat didn’t move, just sniffed at the air, entirely unbothered. Mrs. Harrington hated rats.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about? There is no rat. I don’t even own a rat,” said Morgana. She looked at both her shoulders and then looked back at the receptionist with worried eyes.

“This is not funny, Miss. I must ask you to dispose of the… rat.” Mrs. Harrington stared at Morgana’s shoulder. It was gone. She can’t have blinked for more than one second, but the rat was gone.

“Are you alright?” Morgana used the softest of voices, smoothing over Mrs. Harrington’s soul with the slightest of acoustic touches.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Who are you here to see?” Mrs. Harrington was unnerved and irritable. All she wanted to do now was go home and tell her daughter to go screw her life up without dragging her mother down with her.

“Merlin Dewin. My brother.”

“Right, right. Go ahead. Room 304. You have until 8 o’clock.” Mrs. Harrington scribbled down ‘Ms. Dewin’ in the visitor’s book; her ears a furious red.

Morgana refrained from whistling as the glass door buzzed open and she walked up the stairs.

The inside of the building did not reflect the outer Victorian beauty. The floor coverings were rucking up, becoming dangerous for the unobservant wanderer. The egg-coloured wallpaper had taken on the appearance of a discoloured patchwork. There were holes in the walls that spoke of secret happenings in the building. The paint on the banister was peeling off and stuck to your hand when you tried to hold on. It smelled strongly of disinfectant, more so than Morgana had ever smelled in a hospital. A shiver went down her spine and she had to stop for a moment at the horrific thought of her brother having to stay here. This was not a happy place. It was cold.

Morgana continued up the stairs, feeling warmer as she got nearer to the top, but that had nothing to do with the building. Merlin was waiting for her at the top of the stairs behind another set of glass doors that could only be opened from the outside or per chip card. A CCTV camera zoomed in on her noisily.

“They could at least paint it. Green or something,” said Morgana, as she opened the door. Merlin was leaning against the door frame, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles. His dark hair was standing on end. He looked as distressed as she felt. “Or have poison ivy grow up the walls. That would actually liven up the place.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “God, I haven’t even been here for a day. I can’t stay here, Morgana. It’s a fucking prison.” He gestured at the door. “Security, cameras, safety codes and all that shit.”

“I know.” She hugged him. The familiarity of it calmed Merlin. “I brought you something.” She coaxed the little animal out of her jacket sleeve where he’d conveniently hid from the scrutinizing look of Mrs. Harrington.

“Kilgharrah!” Merlin’s eyes lit up as he stroked the white fur and then placed him on his shoulder. Kilgharrah dug his claws into Merlin’s neck and settled to stay. “Thank you.”

“And I brought you these. They’re green; I thought you’d like them.” Merlin peeped into the bag she handed him and saw a pair of green converse. “Come on; show me the hole they’ve forced you to stay in.”

Merlin turned around, leading her down the grey corridor. There were no pictures on the wall, no sign of any colour other than the sickly grey of the wallpaper and of the withered brown flowers in a glass vase, which stood on a table just beside the nurses’ room. There were bars on the windows. They quivered under Morgana’s stare. She put her hand in Merlin’s and raised her head. Anything that hadn’t shrunk away from her yet, did so now. One of the nurses turned around on the threshold and moved back into the room in which she didn’t need to be anymore.

They reached the door to Merlin’s room; a place more dreary than a funeral home. The bed stood in the darkest corner. The bedding looked and smelt as if it was a century old and had been used as the stage for several deaths throughout the decades. The stains on the floor did nothing to discourage that suspicion. The little light coming through the window was further decimated by the thick bars in front of it. The lamp shade was chipped on one side, a piece broken off, comparable to the entire situation.

The desk in the corner opposite the bed was simple but at least looked like it was from this century and in good shape. The chair on the other hand showed signs of frequent use. It was the lack of pictures, of curtains, of colour that pressed down on the mind. Never mind padded cells, it was staring at these grey, unmoving walls that could drive you insane.

“So, how many stars is this? Minus 20?”

“But they do room service. I get pills twice a day, and always on time. Can’t complain there.” Merlin’s eyes grew dark to match Morgana’s.

“What do you do with them?” She sat down on the grimy bed, the feeling of disgust crawling up her spine and settling in her neck.

“They watch me take them and swallow.” Merlin only sighed at the fury in Morgana’s face, as if this was a ridiculous fight in school over an insult like ‘freak’, ‘witch’, ‘monster’. Merlin always had to keep Morgana from showing these children just how much of a freak, witch and monster she could be. Instead of scaring the shit out of them, he made her endure the taunts and jeers. Sometimes he thought she hated him for that.

However, she had never looked half as angry during those taunts as she did now. Merlin took her hand.

“I turn them to stone. I hardly notice them going down and it’s better than getting high on drug cocktails and forgetting that I’m even here.”

“Looking at this, forgetting sounds kind of nice to me.” It was supposed to be a joke, but Merlin let go of her hand and crawled back to the head of the bed, crawled into himself.

“It’s not just forgetting, though.” He stared at her, her face, her eyes, her hands, her hair, just like his and he wanted to scream at her, rage at her. He hated it when she made jokes like that. He knew she was only hiding. He knew this was her way of doing things; it was easier for her. He couldn’t help feeling cold when she did that though. Because he couldn’t make jokes, because he couldn’t see the joke in things. That distance between them killed him, every time.

“I’m lost.”

  
 _  
They were six, maybe seven. A scary time. Their mother had been in hospital, again. Somehow, it always happened at night and they were disturbed in their sleep by a commotion in the bedroom, every time she was wrapped in bloody sheets from the waist down. The neighbour came over and rushed them into their bedroom, telling them to stop crying, their mummy wasn’t hurt._

 _Their daddy would come back, looking more worn with every visit to the hospital. He would go to work in the morning, leaving the neighbour to make breakfast, leaving them without a goodbye-kiss, without a hug, without looking back. A day, two days later, mummy would come back, looking pale and thin, with bloodshot eyes. Every time Merlin would go over to her and tell her not to cry anymore and that would make her cry again. She’d hug him and press a kiss to his hair, but then Morgana would be angry at him afterwards for making their mother cry._

 _But Morgana didn’t know, she never knew._

 _She laughed at him for being scared of their father. Sometimes she hated him for being scared of their father, but Merlin knew that she only hated him because he seemed to know more and didn’t tell her. He had promised his mother not to tell his sister. It couldn’t be helped that he knew, but his mother almost violently tried to keep it from Morgana._

 _She found out eventually. Put the pieces together, the blood, the hospitals, the hormone pills their mother had to take, their father’s coldness towards his own children and wife. She blamed herself for causing their parents so much pain and thought that they, Merlin and her, had broken their relationship. That it was their fault that they didn’t have any siblings. Perhaps it was. And that it was their fault that their father didn’t look at them with loving eyes, didn’t hug them and never played with them._

 _Merlin never told her about the dream, the dream that confirmed his fears about their father._

 _She’d fallen back into a deep and calm sleep and didn’t remember anything in the morning. She’d wondered why Merlin was crying, had lain down beside him and put an arm around him. At half past eight, their mother came in, eyes wild and hurried._

 _“Merlin, Morgana. Get up.”_

 _“Why?” Morgana sat on the edge of the bed with questioning eyes. Merlin crawled out beside her and in his PJs he began collecting the things he wanted to have with him the most. Without question, without fear; just silent tears, until Morgana stopped him. She took away his favourite stuffed animal and put it back in its usual place._

 _“No.”_

 _Their mother stopped packing clothes and looked at her as she stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed._

 _“Where’s dad?”_

 _“At work, honey. We have to go.” Her mother’s eyes flicked to the door and Merlin wondered why Morgana couldn’t feel her fear.  
“Why?”_

 _“Please, Morgana, darling, trust me. We have to leave, now.”_

 _It was Morgana’s turn to cry. “But-? Why? Is dad coming too?”_

 _Their mother didn’t answer, which was answer enough._

 _“I don’t want to leave. I’m staying. You can’t make me. Merlin, stop.” He’d resumed gathering things behind her back. She jumped at him and knocked his favourite book out of his hand._

 _“Don’t.”_

 _“Morgana, darling. Daddy – he isn’t nice anymore. He will hurt you. He..he doesn’t love us anymore,” said their mother, choking on her own loss._

 _Morgana shook her head violently at that information. “No, no, he wouldn’t. He can’t. Don’t say that.”_

 _Their mother looked confused. “But honey, you said-“_

 _“Mana?” Merlin’s quiet voice interrupted his mother’s mistake. She didn’t quite understand that Morgana wasn’t aware of what she was capable of, that Morgana wouldn’t remember what she had said. “Come with me.” He whispered it as if afraid that saying it aloud would make Morgana hate him._

 _Morgana turned away and started collected things with silent tears running down her face._

 _They made it to Portsmouth that day. It was five o’clock in the afternoon and the sea blew up a storm that had them drenched to their skin in a matter of seconds. They rang the bell to an old house from a dream Morgana had once had. She had drawn it on a piece of paper the day after, suspecting but not quite knowing what she was drawing and why. She’d been four; the turrets of the house, the windows, the garden, the roof tiles and general shape imperfect; crooked and blurred, but she swore high and low that it had looked that way. She would have pointedly looked at Merlin to tell him ‘See, I was right’, had there not been a dread of entering that house. It had not been a happy dream. It had been full of dark corners, tears, screams, loneliness. Her loneliness. Somehow, Merlin hadn’t been there._

 _She took his hand as they entered, an older man with a grey beard leading them into a dusty, smelly living room with a sad little grey-haired woman in it._

 _That night the little girl in her stormed and raged and cried, but the witch in her knew that this would be her life – the darkness, the loneliness ,the haunted faces, her own rebellion and Merlin the only anchor to share the load._

 _She’d never felt more lost.  
_

  
Morgana made Merlin scoot over to the far side of the bed so that she could fit in next to him. The bed was just about wide enough so that they could sit side by side without danger of falling off. Her legs were flush against his, spreading warmth throughout his entire body. Her hair tickled his arms. It was such a familiar sensation it actually increased his loneliness, but he didn’t dare tell Morgana that.

“We’ll get you out of here. Soon. I promise.” She didn’t look at him as she said it. “He doesn’t have the right. They don’t have the right. You’re 18. He might be your father, but you’re fucking 18. He doesn’t have the right.”

“I’m a danger to others,” whispered Merlin, the cynicism dripping from every word.

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s the kind of bullshit that is written down in my file and will make any judge decide to have me locked up for the rest of my life. It’s the bullshit _he_ told them.” Merlin lent his head against Morgana’s shoulder to get her to stop talking about it.

Technically he’s older – “by a lousy five minutes” is what Morgana likes to say – but there are only rare occasions when that becomes apparent. Everyone always thinks Morgana is the older one. She’s more straightforward, bossier and more aggressive. It impresses people and makes them think she rules this relationship in every way. Merlin doesn’t have a problem with that. He knows when he has to he can pull the age-card with Morgana and she’ll stop arguing and do what she’s told. Sometimes that obedience even lasts longer than five minutes.

“Just don’t do anything... stupid.” She knew the ‘stupid’ came too late and cringed silently.

“You know I can’t always help it,” said Merlin, pretending she only meant his ability and ignoring the other underlying ‘stupid’ thing he could do. He sounded resigned. Morgana didn’t have to answer. They both knew that it couldn’t always be helped, but she had always had it easier. She had never envied him, for that reason exactly. She didn’t have to work so hard to try to hide it. She was a freak de facto because she was his sister, not because she was just like him. If her - powers, freakishness, mutation, - whatever it was, were as strong, she would be in here as well. However, hers were more subtle. They crept upon her at night mostly. Of course, that had ruled out sleep-overs from a very early age, but it wasn’t like she had many friends anyway. She had never needed any.

She giggled and Merlin raised his head to look at her.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about the time Mum tried to get us to make more friends. Or, you know, any friends at all.”

Merlin smiled. “I think we scarred everyone on that playground for life.”

“They were never the same again.” Morgana’s eyes crinkled and her laugh filled the room.

It didn’t reach Merlin. He leaned back, eyes blank. “I won’t ever be the same now.”

Morgana hit his leg with the back of her hand. “Don’t say that.” But she had never been very good at acting cheerful. “We should stop moping. Come on, let’s go to the park.”

Merlin shook his head. “’M not allowed.”

“Fuck that. Okay, what else is there? I don’t know, you got a fun room or something, TV, games, blah?”

Merlin’s eyes turned sarcastic. “Well, there is what they call the relaxation lounge which basically consists of a TV which was new in the 70s, a radio King George V might have known well and those crappy romance novels which disguise porn as heart-breaking and moving literature.”

If Merlin had thought that would take Morgana’s mind off of any sort of activity involving getting up from the bed and leaving the room, he was wrong.  
“Oooh, awesome. I’ll get one and then I’ll read it to you. I’ll use different voices. I love those trashy novels. You should have said right from the start.” Merlin almost wished her excited mood was fake, but he also couldn’t help feeling better and light-hearted. They could still read crappy books together. Some things never changed.

~

Dull. Talk about onomatopoeia. The word sounded out its very own definition. Dull: dumb, boring, mind-numbing, a big thud of nothing. Yes, there were books, but these books were all specimens of the characteristic ‘dull’, as if they had been especially picked to accommodate the atmosphere that hung about in every corner. It was almost sadistic that he was happy and excited whenever another patient freaked and lashed out. It brought running nurses, doctors yelling, sometimes an alarm sounded and all the other patients cheered. It was animalistic and he enjoyed it.

Masturbation became his favourite pastime after a few days. Whenever he could do it without being watched, that is. It wasn’t very satisfactory; sometimes the weak orgasm frustrated him to a point where he felt worse than before. Then the realisation that this was only the beginning scared him.

Before Morgana had left that day, she had grabbed him by the shoulders, possibly in an attempt to reassure him and scatter the fears that they both shared.

“You’re not mad. We both know that. Or else I should be in here too. Just ...” And here Morgana had hesitated, looking around the grey room, looking at the stained bed, at Kilgharrah who had stopped chewing on the laces of Merlin’s new shoes and only sat on the desk in apathy. “Just don’t go mad in here, okay?” Her eyes said ‘whatever it takes’ and she meant it.

She didn’t hug him goodbye, which was a message in itself. “This shithole should be prepared to get a good kicking from me. No mercy.” Merlin had laughed himself to sleep that night, imagining what Dr. Jal would make of his sister.

That was six days ago. Morgana hadn’t been back and Merlin was starting to wonder whether she was not in the worse position, still out there, with the real world that hated her as much as him. His only worry now was how to stop boredom from creeping into his very cells, pores, heart and brain, eating him up from the inside. He had to continue to man the shell he was walking around in, defend it against boredom, madness, ignorance and self-pity, which was a battle most people in here seemed to have lost a long time ago and it seemed like one of the most important battles in human history.

He wasn’t sure, however, whether he’d really want to trade with his sister. There was a sense of freedom he felt; not having to pretend to be normal anymore. Morgana still had to do that – hide. He had had a week to appreciate the irony of the situation. Locked up to be freed. It was like the worst Hollywood cliché doubled with Bollywood cheese topped with a cherry.

  
Of course, it was nowhere near as perfect as a film ending. For that he would need to be able to just walk out of this place, get Morgana and get the fuck out of this country with her, hide in the Brazilian rain forest or something and live on nothing except food and the exhilarating feeling of freedom.

‘One can dream the impossible.’

And it was easy to dream in the dark, with no other pictures to destroy the dream.

 _He heard the birds singing. To his right a group of monkeys was fighting over a pile of nuts. The ferns were swaying in a breeze that rippled through the undergrowth of the forest, while a gentle drip-drip was a reminder of the rain that had stopped only minutes before. He could smell it, could feel it drying on his skin. Nature as the last refuge; and it seemed so easy too. Just to disappear in the vast labyrinth of trees and ferns, animals, earth and water. A deep roar made him fall._

  
He hit his head on the desk as his body fell to the ground beside his bed. He suppressed the groan that rose in his throat. He must have fallen asleep while imagining himself surrounded by birdsong. He sat up and turned his body; his feet now under the bed, his head and arms on the mattress. There was a cold sweat running down his neck. It felt like someone was lightly scratching its ice-cold claws down his back. He turned around rapidly, his heart racing. It was just the dark. For the first time, it freaked him out. He scrambled up and turned on the light. It didn’t make him feel any better. It still felt like there was something in the room, creeping up on him. He ran to the door and was out of the room before thinking about whoever might have night watch. He lent against the closed door and breathed out. The light in the hallway was dimmed and the green wallpaper looked dirtier than in daylight.

Nurse Vivien, a blonde little woman, almost a girl actually – she couldn’t be much older than him, if at all – came out of the nurse’s office. Her hair was down and it made her almost pretty, a natural beauty that was usually hidden beneath a layer of make-up and an even bigger layer of stress and emotional shut-down. The hidden beauty was covered up by the condescending look she gave him when she spotted him as the reason for the commotion.

“Mr. Dewin, you are not allowed out of your room after 10 o’clock. Please go to sleep,” she said as arrogantly as possible, but it did nothing to help cover up the fact that she was scared of him.

“I’m sorry. I –“

“I’ll take it from here, nurse. Thank you.” Merlin turned to see a man with grey hair and small glasses. He looked like he should be retired. He looked like he had just been out for a walk, standing there with a walking stick, wearing a waistcoat with the chain of a pocket watch dangling on the left side. All that was missing was a top hat and a fancy jacket to complete the picture of a 1920’s gentleman in his late years. Merlin was sure he hadn’t seen him before.

“If you must, Doctor.” Vivien turned on her heels, her hips swaying in discontent.

“Follow me, Mr. Dewin.” The doctor turned around. It looked painful the way he leaned on his stick and Merlin expected to hear the joints creaking. He was still a bit uncertain but the old man just kept walking, fully expecting Merlin to follow him.

They didn’t walk side by side and they walked in silence, along the corridor, turning right at the end of it, through a large glass door with cameras but no security code to the far end of a yellow-painted corridor, where the old man unlocked a door with the name Gaius McArthur written across it.

“No ‘doctor’?”

“I find not rubbing it in all the time helps with the relationship you have with other people. ‘Doctor’ always makes you seem like you’re superior to everyone else and people tend to get awkward then. Just Gaius is much easier to work with. Sit, Merlin. I may call you Merlin?”

“How do you-?”

“You are a very interesting person. I noticed you; I had to check, of course. Find out why you are in here.” Gaius didn’t smile, didn’t even look very encouraging. He looked at Merlin from above his glasses which meant he only needed them for reading. Merlin wondered what he had done to come to this man’s attention. He was sure he hadn’t done any accidental magic.

“Yes, you can... call me Merlin.” He looked at the framed photos on the wall. They showed a younger Gaius. There was a woman in his arms as they stood on a small bridge. She looked about fifty and the photo could well be at least 10 years old. There wasn’t a newer picture anywhere.

“And I’m not entirely sure it’s easier to work with.” Merlin tore his eyes away from the picture of a happier past and looked at the confused present. “Your name, I mean. People might think you’re weird, because your name is so unusual.”

“So is yours.”

“Yes, but I’ve never held a place of authority, I’ve only been in situations to be made fun of.”

“That again is the advantage of having a doctorate. No one ever makes fun of me.” Gaius’ eyes twinkled and Merlin felt a tension fall away from him he hadn’t realised he had carried with him here from his room.

“Tea?” Gaius pointed at the silent butler standing underneath his window.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Gaius got up heavily and walked over to prepare tea. They were both silent until the full cup was placed in front of Merlin and Gaius had sat back down again.

“You don’t talk much.”

Gaius leaned forward, looking secretive. “It’s a trick of mine. Someone who is scared of talking about himself and his feelings fills silences with anything he can think of. They talk and talk until I either tell them to stop or they get too nervous and confused.”

“So, what does this then tell you about me?”

“That you might not belong here.” Gaius leaned back again.

It wasn’t what Merlin had expected to hear.

“I don’t think you do.” They both sipped their tea, the sound filling the room and it was loosening his tension. He could feel it slip off and crawl away.

He took a deep breath. “Why not?”

Gaius put down his cup with only the slightest clunk, displaying how much of a gentleman he really was. “Do you know what’s written in your file? That you think you can do magic; that you planned on using it against your family; that you suffer from paranoia just like your mother, who wanted to protect you from those are against magic. It reads a bit like a modern witch hunt, with you as the wizard, in this case, whose loving mother tried to protect him. Of course, they make it sound like you’re suffering from paranoia and schizophrenia which you sort of inherited from your mother, whether genetically or behaviourally doesn’t really matter.”

“My mother wasn’t paranoid.”

“But she kept running away from your father, correct?”

In hindsight, it was stupid of course and Merlin still doesn’t know whether it was the atmosphere of the office, which felt like a room where you could do or say anything and it would always stay in there, or whether it was Gaius, his appearance, his behaviour, his crinkly smile or the fatherly voice with which he spoke, but in that moment Merlin simply opened his hand and there in his palm was fire.

Gaius was stock-still, staring at the little flame lashing out furiously, as if it was trying to make up for its lack in size by wild movement. Merlin closed his hand again. The room smelled of burnt skin, but Gaius saw that it was unharmed.

“I can move objects too,” he whispered, as if that could keep the secret hidden; locked up in the deep dungeons of his mind. “I’ve also tried out a few spells. Most of them are rubbish and not real, but some work.”

“Show me!” Gaius’s voice was steady and quiet. Merlin searched for accusation in the tone or in his eyes, but there was none.

“An hát séo ӕg.” His voice was still not more than a whisper. He pointed his hand at the teacup to increase the energy that lead the magic towards the liquid from which hot steam and the sounds of boiling was now rising. Gaius pulled his hands away quickly as some of the hot liquid jumped over the edge of the cup. Merlin immediately put down his hand and broke the contact.

“Sorry.” He sank down in his chair, like a scolded child, and didn’t dare look at the older man for fear that the gentleness had left his eyes.

“I was wrong.” The voice was still gentle, but Merlin cringed at the words and shifted uncomfortably.

“No, I mean-“ Gaius leaned forwards in his chair, reached out with his hand, laying it on the table as close to Merlin as he could. “Actually, I was right. You don’t belong here.”

Merlin looked up and saw a face that shone with amazement and sadness. “But it wasn’t for the reasons I thought it was. I thought they had made half of the things up; just a ridiculous excuse to lock you up and get you out of the way. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Gaius shook his head, trying to banish the memories. “But they know, don’t they? They know what you can do and they’re scared. Am I right?”

Merlin raised his eyes to meet Gaius’, but didn’t say anything, only shrugged, because he really did not know for sure. Gaius removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. “You don’t belong here.”

The way he said it, as if he was more broken up about it than Merlin could ever be and suddenly Merlin just couldn’t help himself. His eyes welled up and the first tears since he’d come to this place fell down his face.

He saw the pity flare up in Gaius’ eyes, which did not make it any easier.

“My dear boy.” He raised himself from the chair and walked around the table, pulling out a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and handing it to Merlin. He put an arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him against his chest, forgetting any sort of professional distance he should have. Merlin’s face turned towards the heat almost involuntarily. Anyone would crave the feeling of security, no one could really blame him for indulging in that feeling, even if it was only for a few seconds. It was Merlin who broke the away first, wiping away the streaks of tears.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin waved with the handkerchief awkwardly.

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry about,” said Gaius as he settled back into his chair. “What you can do is... well, it’s incredible and I have to admit I’m not entirely sure I’m sane, but no matter how much I doubt my insanity, this-,” Gaius pointed vaguely at Merlin, “this is nothing you should be sorry for or ashamed of, for that matter. Can your sister do the same th-?”

“NO!” Merlin’s head had shot up and the fearful look in his eyes just confirmed Gaius’ guess.

“They probably suspect it anyway,” he said sadly.

“No, please don’t tell them. She can’t. She’s not like me.” Merlin had shifted to the edge of his chair, looking at Gaius with pleading eyes.

“You are contradicting yourself, Merlin. If she can’t do anything, there’s nothing I could tell anyone about.” A small smile was playing around Gaius’ mouth.

“No, she-“ Merlin lent back in his chair and tried to look impassive. “She can’t do anything. She’s normal.”

“Better.” Gaius took a sip from his tea, which had cooled down to a drinkable temperature again. “Dr. Jal hasn’t asked you about her yet, has he?”

Merlin shook his head in one quick movement. “I’m pretty sure that he still thinks I’m schizophrenic or something. I don’t do anything to make him think otherwise. He only asks question about the relationship I have with Morgana.”

“Good, trying to figure out whether your non-existent illness comes from schizophrenia, paranoia, personality disorder etc. will keep him pre-occupied for a while. But you have to stay calm in case he does ask one day.”

“But won’t he guess anyway once he realizes this is real? We’re twins, after all.” Another tear fell down Merlin’s cheek.

Gaius sighed. “Which is why it’s crucial that you don’t show anyone else what you’ve just shown me.” He remained silent for a few seconds. “It was actually a bit reckless what you just did.”

Merlin sat up, sliding to the edge of the chair. Gaius quickly raised his hand in a calming gesture. “I’m not going to say anything. You have nothing to fear from me, Merlin. But you didn’t know that coming in here.” It was the fatherly look that Gaius gave him which made Merlin crack.

The old man felt something close to an electric shock go through the room. It didn’t hurt; it was more like those small shocks that he used to get from the cattle fences when he was still a child. He and his friends dared each other to touch the fences and see who could hold out the longest. They always came home laughing, giddy with happiness at having withstood it. It was a silly game and they had been scolded for it a fair few times, but always gone back to it. It had never been frightening, not like this. Not when the surge of electricity came from a human, not when it made the glass in all of the picture frames crack and shatter.

Merlin was gripping the edge of his chair, looking at the ground. His shoulders were shaking with anger. He didn’t seem to have noticed the explosion of glass.

“Merlin?” Gaius hated himself for being unable to keep his voice steady. He hated himself even more for having to admit that he was a little scared of this young man. Happy people rarely became dangerous. This man, this incredible miracle of a man, was far from happy. “Merlin?”

“My father!” spat Merlin. His knuckles shone white with the violent force of holding on to something solid other than his rage.

“Sorry?” Gaius wasn’t sure he had heard him right.

Merlin slowly raised his head. His eyes were darker. The natural blue was gone. It did nothing to reduce Gaius’ fears.

“It was my father. He put me here. I’m of age. He told them these things, about paranoia, schizophrenia, magic. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t fucking be here.” Merlin’s rage didn’t break out in a raised voice - he didn’t scream, he didn’t yell, he didn’t get up to throw things around – but judging by the exploding cups on the silent butler it was a rage Merlin had difficulties controlling.

“Merlin, look at me!” It was stern, but not hateful, and it snapped Merlin right out of his thoughts. His eyes flitted to the broken shards of beautiful porcelain scattered all over the floor before focusing on Gaius. “Tell me what happened!”

Merlin raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Without breaking anything else, please.”

“I’m so sorry.” Merlin nearly stumbled over the chair’s legs in his haste to get up and start cleaning away the mess.

“Merlin? Merlin? Sit down! Don’t worry about it.” Only the affectionate amusement in Gaius’ words made Merlin stop in his actions. “Please, sit down. I can clean this up later.”

Merlin wiped away another tear, dropping shakily back into the chair and took a deep breath. “I... I get so angry with him. I get so angry at the thought of Morgana having to live with him and I’m not there with her.”

“So your father put you here? Why?”

“I don’t know the specifics. Maybe he’s always known anyway, maybe he saw me do something in particularly. All I know for sure is, last Monday the medics suddenly stood in front of our door and took me away to the hospital and from there on it wasn’t long before they talked about sectioning me.”

“What do you think you might have done?”

“I don’t really know.“ Merlin shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Sometimes I do stuff in my sleep. I’m not aware of it in the morning, but Morgana has noticed over the years.” He hesitated again.

“That’s not really it, is it?”

Merlin sighed. He might as well put it all out there. If he couldn’t trust this man, they were both screwed anyway.

“She has these nightmares, they’re not really nightmares; they are more like prophecies. The future. Things that could happen, but that can be changed as well.” _Or so they had thought, it might not be the case after all._ “And then she talks in her sleep and starts walking around. She usually doesn’t remember and Mom and I were able to keep it from her for a few years. At least until we got kicked out of our flat once, because Morgana had walked down into the flat of our landlady, into the bedroom, woken her up and told her that she was going to lose her baby and two days later she did. We had to explain to Morgana why that nice woman who had made us cookies and cakes and all that was suddenly calling her a child of the devil and waving a cricket bat around. She didn’t sleep for three days, until she just passed out from exhaustion.”

“You think it was her?”

“I... I don’t know. I don’t want to think it was her, but it’s the only explanation. I can control myself fairly well, she can’t. I think she knows it must have been her. We’d been together all the time, not one minute apart, barely any time spent with our father. There was no accidental magic I can remember that he might have seen. All we did that day was read in the backyard. There was nothing, nothing.”

“Merlin, it doesn’t make sense,” said Gaius, playing with his glasses and shifting in his seat. “Because if that is what happened and your father was witness to a prophecy – for lack of a better word - in the middle of the night, then why are you in here and not your sister? And even then, your sister might not have been sectioned. Your father might have only wondered why she was sleepwalking and what kind of strange dreams she was having.”

The silence lasted a minute before Merlin softly spoke. “Could you tell her that next time she’s here? She thinks it’s her fault.”

“Of course. But that doesn’t solve why you’re here. What about your mother? Didn’t she have anything to say about this?”

Merlin shook his head.

“She died about a year ago. That‘s why we’re living with him again, we weren’t off age yet when she died and our grandmother forced our father to take us in and live with them. Morgana and I were set on continuing on our own, but we weren’t allowed by law. We only turned eighteen 2 months ago.”

“What did your mother die off?”

“Cancer.”

“And she knew?” Gaius, again, gestured vaguely at the broken cups.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t your father?”

“We were six when she left him.” Merlin looked away and Gaius knew there was more to the story, but he wasn’t one to push when it was clear that his conversation partner wasn’t ready to be pushed. Merlin had given enough already.

“So then maybe now that you had started living with him again, he noticed things and whatever happened the night before your transfer here, was the final straw.”

Merlin laughed darkly and it made Gaius cringe. “Transfer, nice euphemism.”

Gaius was just about to answer, when the door was pushed open and Nurse Vivien stepped into the room with purpose. She wavered a bit seeing the mess Merlin had made and narrowed her eyes at him. “Dr. McArthur, it is the middle of the night and the patients have to be in their rooms. I must ask that the patient return to his bed.”

“My name is Merlin, very nice to meet you,” said Merlin sarcastically. Gaius coughed and tried to shake his head at him unnoticed, but Nurse Vivien had always had keen eyes and a temper.

“I’m glad you get on so well with patients that aren’t yours, but daytime would be a much more appropriate time to meddle in other people’s businesses, don’t you think?” She folded her arms across her chest and kicked at a piece of porcelain that had flown all the way to the door.

Gaius rose and put out his hand to shake Merlin’s, not looking at the intruder. “Certainly, nurse. Goodnight, Merlin. It was interesting talking to you. Do send Dr. Jal my best.”

“I will.”

Merlin brushed past Nurse Vivien without a second glance. She made a disgruntled noise and closed the door noisily without a ‘goodbye’ to Gaius, following him at a distance. Merlin checked the clock on the wall at the top of the stairs. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning. Another two hours and Nurse Vivien would be going home for the day and he would have a day of relative peace. It was the first week of her night shifts that Merlin had been here for. He was much calmer during the day. It seemed like everyone was calmer without her around, calmer on the inside, because activity certainly increased when she wasn’t watching over them like a hawk waiting for you to put one toe out of line so that she could swoop down on you.

Something must have gone horribly wrong in her life for her to apparently find pleasure in creating more misery for people who were already at the bottom of the chain to begin with. There were stories going around about her forcing one of the patients to eat what he had just thrown up because she wanted to teach him a lesson. What that lesson was supposed to be, Merlin couldn’t imagine, but he found it hard not to believe that rumour, especially after her storming into the office like that and the way she looked at him, when he closed the door to his room. It sent chills down his spine and he wished he could have switched on the light to chase them away, but then she would have come in and told him off.

He needed to be really careful around her.

~


	2. Chapter 2

~~~

Morgana looked in the mirror and cursed. Sometimes she could see by her bloodshot eyes and the dark skin beneath them that she had had one of the ‘nightmares’. They were the ones with her walking around the house or neighbourhood for hours, sometimes saying nothing at all, just seeing, sometimes telling complete strangers who were out late what fate had in store for them. She’d been arrested twice, their mother struggling to explain her daughter’s affinity for sleepwalking. Social Services were sent to the house to assess whether Morgana needed psychiatric care, but they had always been able to prevent that step.

She splashed her face with cold water several times, but it didn’t wake her up. She hadn’t been sleeping well for over a week now, and she knew exactly why.

She and Merlin got two separate rooms when they had moved in with their father; it had been the first time they hadn’t slept in the same room. Most of the time it had been just space and money issues that had forced them to share a room. The few times they could have had two rooms, they had gotten so used to sharing they chose to forgo the separate rooms they could have had. Here they had been forced.

 _“A boy and a girl your age sharing a room – that’s not right. And we have so much space.”_

Their grandmother had possibly meant it only in the best of ways, but that still didn’t mean they had liked the idea. Moreover, Morgana certainly hadn’t liked the disdainful nod their father had given from behind his newspaper.

She opened the door to peek into the hallway and checked the clock, ten past nine. He would be at work already and she could easily avoid her grandmother. She closed the door again and looked longingly at the small window above the shower. Not for the first time she wished she could do real magic and just turn herself into a butterfly and fly away.

 

~

 

“Gran caught me just as I was leaving, asking me to clean the kitchen for her. She can be really annoying sometimes. I think he’s putting her up to it, just to stop me from visiting you. I don’t know whether they think I’m going to try to break you out or something.”

“Please do!”

It was late afternoon. The sun was hanging low already and they were lying on the floor of his room, Morgana’s head on Merlin’s stomach. The sun was tickling his neck; Morgana’s hair was tickling his arm.

“Merlin, this isn’t funny.”

Morgana was oozing frustration from every pore. “They’re trying to break us apart, it’s like there’s a strategy. Father took me out to Phantasia on Tuesday, even though I told him I was way too old for that. We stayed there all day.” Merlin snorted loudly, she hit his thigh. “All day Merlin. I thought I was going to kill myself. We were both miserable, but he still insisted on doing every attraction and ride and if I ever changed the expression on my face he interpreted it as enjoyment and we did that attraction twice, or three times or four times. This is literally the first day I’ve had any chance of coming here, and grandmother still managed to delay me. Plus we still don’t know what he knows and how he knows; what made him do this. I’m fucking scared and I know you are too. Don’t deny it.”

He took a deep breath, watching as Morgana’s head rose and fell with it. “Yeah, I know. Dr McArthur, uhm Gaius, he thinks it’s not your fault, no late night wanderings that could have ticked him off, or else you would be in here or in therapy for your sleepwalking.”

“Dr McArthur? I thought-“

“Different one. Better one. Unfortunately, he’s not my actual psychiatrist. I just met him by chance one night and we talked. I wish I could talk to him regularly. Dr Jal is a dick.”

“He already looks like one; that grimace, eugh. The way he smiled at me earlier, asking me whether we _got along well_ , I mean, what the ‘effing F’ was that about? I’m thinking he was looking for possible incest or something in my personality that might have triggered – whoa wait.” Morgana sat up abruptly. With the way the sun fell, her hair looked like it was on fire. “What do you mean he doesn’t think it’s my fault and late night wanderings? You told him? About me and you? Are you fucking insane?”

“Calm down.” He threw a worried glance at the door. The fact that he couldn’t lock it still disturbed him. Technically, he was never alone because the nurses tended to check in on them if they sat in their rooms all day; sometimes that happened every five to ten minutes. “It’s fine. Yes, he knows, but there was just… I don’t know, a sort of energy, telling me it, he was safe.”

“Merlin!”

He got up and started pacing the room. “You weren’t there, okay? I felt safe. Frankly, if I’m screwed anyway, which I fucking am, I just had to tell someone. Get it out; stop the fucking hiding that was utterly pointless anyway, ‘cause I still ended up here. But I didn’t tell just anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes. She was still sitting on the ground, following Merlin as he paced the few feet across the room. “What do you mean ‘still ended up here’?”

“What?” Merlin stopped.

“What do you mean ‘still’?”

He knew he had hesitated for too long. His answer would be pointless now. “Nothing.”

“Mana?” He knelt down beside her when she didn’t say anything for a while and placed a hand on her shoulder. She brushed it off with a small movement and got up. She didn’t look at him, instead faced the window, but he knew that if she did he would see tears there.

“This is it, isn’t it? This is why we left. Trying to prevent this.” His lack of an answer was answer enough. “Everything’s my fault. These stupid dreams, this gift,” she spat. “What a fucking gift, thank you very much, world.” Angrily, she wiped the tears away with her right hand. Merlin moved closer and hugged her around the waist from behind. She hiccoughed and clutched at his arms.

“I’m sorry, Emrys.”

Merlin tightened his grip. She hadn’t called him that in a long time. “I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you. I never will.” He kissed her shoulder. She turned around so rapidly, she nearly hit him with her elbow. She squeezed him quickly around the waist and then stepped away, holding him out at arm’s length.

“What else?”

Merlin sighed. He knew she’d ask that. “Nothing else. I would’ve ended up locked away one day anyway, because of my... condition; because of him. Mum tried to prevent that, that’s why we fled.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” she whispered. They both knew he was. She didn’t push it. She hugged him once more before grabbing her bag and leaving without another word. Merlin blinked away the tears that sprang up after he saw the defeat in her eyes. Crying wouldn’t help them either.

 

~

 

Merlin grabbed Kilgharrah, set him down on the nape of his neck where, in the three weeks he’d been here, his hair had become long enough to nearly hide Kilgharrah completely. He was still struggling with himself whether to cut the hair – it was tickling him - or to keep it like this for Kilgharrah. There hadn’t been any uproar, even when they’d seen him peek out from underneath Merlin’s shirt and the tickling was kind of bothering him.

Their father was running out of pretexts to detain Morgana from visiting him and when he’d simply told her that he didn’t want her to see Merlin, it had ended in a nasty fight and black eye for Morgana. She swears it was an accident, but Merlin wasn’t entirely sure she was telling the truth. It seemed as if they had come to a silent agreement: He didn’t talk about that night when they were six and she didn’t talk about what was going on at home.

Since that day, Morgana had been able to come more often and more regularly. She had said she was going to come today, but the outside world kept one busy where the inside world didn’t so Merlin never knew for sure at what time she would show up. He was just going to settle in his favourite chair and finish a horrendous book. He’d been able to read the worst parts to Morgana and enjoy her hysterical laughter.

Merlin stopped short.

There was a guy sitting in his chair – his chair. Well, all right, not his chair. It was the best chair in the room, right by the window, but in just the right position that the draft from the windows didn’t hit you directly. It was also the most secluded spot in the ‘relaxation area’. Merlin had taken to sitting in it and since he had everybody else had abstained from sitting in it, because – well, actually, the frightened or downright terrified looks he got every time he entered the room and the way people scrambled away from him in panic was somewhat frustrating. Yes, it got him the best seat, first place at lunch and the loneliness he rather wanted, but for one it made the atmosphere one of insane intensity and two, it did not exactly seem to help him with making a good and normal impression on his doctor and the nurses.

The chair had sort of been the major plus point in the whole pro and con list of why being scary may suck or not. Except that plus point had just fallen off that list with a piercing scream and a dull thud as it hit rock bottom.

Merlin let the hand holding his book fall to his side as he stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at the chair and the guy in it. Blonde hair, sort of sand-coloured, like a sunset over a field with hay rolled up in huge bales. It was messed up, the ‘I just got out of bed and what did you do?’-hairstyle. Apart from wanting to roll his eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of how obviously that guy was a) totally out of place, b) trying too hard to be cool and c) if not gay then at least metrosexual the way he cared about his hair, Merlin just really wanted to rake his hand through that beautiful sunset in a hayfield.

However, that changed when sunset-in-hayfield slung his legs, kind of stocky, over the side of the armchair, settling into it more comfortably. The guy looked like he was going to stay. Merlin grumbled. To his right, the woman with the light brown hair that was getting so thin she would look better if she just went bald completely squealed and ran past him in small, tipsy steps. He still didn’t know her name. She ran away every time she saw him, even when he smiled. He’d even looked in the mirror to see whether his smile was really that horrible or scary, but it actually looked okay. When he had mentioned it to Morgana her only answer was: “Merlin, you’re the cutest thing since Bambi’s _Gay Little Spring Song_ and it’s your sister saying that.” So he supposed it wasn’t the smile. Just his general aura or the rumours floating around.

Merlin decided to just sit this one out. He picked one of the wicker chairs, which always looked kind of out of place, because everything else seemed a lot shabbier and older. Of course, he hadn’t thought about the scrunching noise he would be making as he sat down. The guy in his chair looked up and Merlin quickly opened his book at a random page and started pretending to read. It didn’t exactly help that to make himself more comfortable he had to move again, which entailed more scrunching noises which made the guy look up again. Merlin also didn’t want to look like the kind of guy that was so stiff he only held a teacup with no more than two fingers.

So scrunching noises it was as he sat back, slid down a bit, arms resting on each side of the chair. The chair was decidedly too small, nowhere near as good as the armchair that was sort of his. He couldn’t curl up in a wicker chair. Wicker chairs were for light afternoon tea conversation on the terrace where you sat with your legs crossed, sipping on a big cup of hot tea and enjoying the afternoon breeze. They weren’t made for comfortable reading. Armchairs were for reading. This was very wrong, but leaving now after he’d only just sat down would be just as wrong.

Merlin was acutely aware of the clock eating away at the seconds like a caterpillar on a leaf, which seemed tedious and quick at the same time. He stole glances at it, which, due to its position right between the two big windows, meant that he was also surreptitiously glancing at the guy. The guy who didn’t move at all. Occasionally Merlin remembered to actually turn a page, though he wasn’t really reading anyway. He thought about pretending to laugh as if he was reading a very funny passage, but decided against it, mainly because he wasn’t sure he could pull it off. Then he wondered why he would want to pretend to be laughing anyway which led to one reaction: “Nonononononononono!” and he got up and left.

He could practically hear Morgana giggling and was actually afraid she might feel giddy right this moment because of his own weird hormonal outburst. She’d tease him so badly, then hate him. Sometimes, Merlin had wondered what it would have been like to be just one person instead of twins. It seemed like they had had their abilities, or curse, or magic – they all sounded wrong – split. Giving him the practical abilities, being able to actually produce visible magic like flowers on top of your head or fire in the palm of your hand, and Morgana the empathic ones. Up until now, Merlin had always thought Morgana had it worse, with her nightmarish visions, being able to sense emotions and Merlin remembered she had once managed to read thoughts. She had refused to practice that, saying that sensing emotions, vividly, was bad enough.

The first time he had masturbated, she, of course, had been right in the middle of puberty as well, and her heightened hormone levels also made her more sensitive to the emotions all around her and less capable of shutting it out. She took to randomly bursting into tears in the middle of a shop because the woman to her left hated her life or the man to her right had just been cheated on by his girlfriend.

So, after his first orgasm she hadn’t dared look at him for the rest of the day, afraid he might know that she had felt it. Being a teenage boy though, he did it again in the middle of the night, and the next day, and the day after that. He really should have seen the explosion boiling underneath her pale skin and dark hair. He should have seen how his mother was shirking Morgana all the time, practically fleeing the room every time she entered it. However, at the time, Merlin was so busy with himself; he probably wouldn’t have noticed Morgana’s discontent even if she had thrown her school sandwiches at his face across the kitchen. So it was kind of a surprise when she came storming into his room in the middle of the night, while he was busy doing what teenage boys love doing, turned on the stark light and glared at him in her beautiful fury.

 _“Think of horrible car accidents, Merlin, or animals being tortured or, I don’t know, Mrs Parker naked. Anything disgusting. Please, I can’t handle this. You’re horny. All. The. Fucking. Time.”_

He needed two months after that before he dared masturbate properly again.

On their eighteenth birthday, she told him that it never really stopped. She could still sense it, still knew whenever he came, knew whenever he found someone hot – which is why he technically never had to tell her that he was gay -, and knew when he was in love.

Not that he was in love now. Not that there was anything Morgana could feel. Nothing. He’d seen a guy who was, admittedly, pretty hot, he’d ignored the guy, he’d left his vicinity and he was not feeling horny just now. Not a bit.

To be fair, he’d never before been this lonely and this sexually frustrated; which was saying a lot and was a genuinely bad combination.

Merlin flopped down onto his bed, the book landing on the floor with a thud. What was he doing? If there was ever a bad idea it was ‘getting hot for a fellow inmate at a psychiatric clinic slash prison’, worse still ‘getting hot for a fellow male inmate at a psychiatric clinic slash prison’. They were in the UK, yes, but that didn’t mean these people couldn’t twist his homosexuality and use it to prove his psychological instability – or vice versa. ‘Being confused’ was one of those arguments used most to dismiss possible homosexuality; his confusion could just be on a grander scale and include general psychological trauma. Merlin could see Dr Jal just clapping his hands with glee at finding out about his sexual preferences. It would probably fit perfectly into the overall scheme Dr Jal had probably already planned out.

 _“Merlin is hiding behind a sexual preference that goes against the norm in order to have a justification for his abnormality. He tries to find a sort of safety net, which makes his illness acceptable, thinking that homosexuality is more acceptable than psychological schizophrenia. It is a fairly typical reaction in search for acceptance from the outside world without having to admit that he is sick. We need to make him see that this is not a valid option.”_ Merlin could see his father solemnly nodding and shaking Dr Jal’s hands and thanking him for that discovery and telling him that he would do anything he could to help make his son normal again.

Merlin shivered at that image. His father and Dr Jal could both screw themselves. That didn’t mean Merlin didn’t have to be careful.

So, no hots for guys in chairs with sand-coloured hair and great arms.

Sometimes life even worked in your favour – sometimes it really did. Except Merlin currently seemed to be on a roll with ‘life-has-fun-fucking-with-you’. He really should have seen it coming, the bell ringing for lunch, him checking in the relaxation lounge to see if the guy had already gone to lunch so that Merlin could avoid sitting with him. When Merlin got to lunch, the guy wasn’t there yet and once in the lunch room, it got increasingly difficult to pretend to have something else to do.

Especially when Nurse Vivien got out her best hawk-like look, acutely aware of everything you did and leaving right after having entered would go down permanently in her book of things she found suspicious enough to tell the doctors about. Merlin was quite sure he didn’t want that, so he had to get his food and sit down at an empty table and hoped that the table would remain empty. None of the other patients had ever dared to come close to him again once the rumour had started going around that he had been sectioned for using witchcraft. Which, well, he kind of had.

The new guy didn’t know that though. Merlin ignored the rest of the world and stared straight at the brownish mush that was supposed to be beans and the greyish mountain of fake potatoes ground through a mill press. The oil that was needed for said pressing oozing out of it, and he had yet to find out what sort of meat that cut-up mess was, but it did not look like anything he had ever eaten before. It looked rather like cat-food, but none of the patients here were allowed a knife and fork, for fear of suicide or wood-carving, so the kitchen had to serve the meat in small pieces.

Poking around the regurgitated mess Merlin didn’t see the confident swagger and broad grin with which he was approached and jumped about a mile when another orange-coloured tray was knocked across his, before letting go a litany of curse words in his head at the sight of sand-coloured hair and, as he now saw, blue eyes.

“Hi, I’m Arthur Pendragon, as in Pendragon IT incorporate, and you are?”

Merlin later invented a different introductory sentence coming out of that mouth for Morgana’s benefit. She would have taken the mickey out of Merlin had she known what Arthur actually said, because in no universe of hers did Merlin react to such arrogant self-centred audacity with anything but disregard plus a possible colourful retelling of a particularly entertaining douche-bag to Morgana later on. Whoever said making fun of other people behind their backs wasn’t enjoyable sometimes was definitely lying.

However, circumstances were different – special – and Merlin didn’t want Morgana to rain down on him on what a prat he accidentally on purpose let into his life. Merlin also didn’t react the normal way, because disregard and future gossiping didn’t sound like this:

“Um, I..I’m Mer-,“ He coughed. “I’m Merlin!” which was followed by a blush and Merlin wanted to kick himself for it. Way to make an impression – not that he wanted to make an impression. That was, like, totally beside the point.

“Hi, Merlin! Cool name!” Arthur put a huge amount of food on his spoon and crammed it into his mouth. “Ei’re ju in hur?”

Merlin frowned at Arthur. “You’re not one to beat around the bush, are you?”

“Nope,” Arthur answered with a little less food in his mouth. “Besides, what’s the point? That’s like the only interesting thing about most people here and the one thing that tells me immediately whether I should spent time with them. So, what brought you here?” Arthur wiggled with his spoon in a ‘go-on’-motion, spraying some of the bean sauce over the table and onto Merlin’s hand. Merlin soon learned to take tissues with him when eating with Arthur.

“Oh, so you want to know who is too insane to be your friend. Doing your rounds, starting with me?” Merlin wasn’t sure whether he should run, be amused or offended or kiss the guy because he sure as hell promised to be a lot of fun and a distraction, no matter what.

“Sorry to disappoint, you’re not the first. You were hiding away, Mister. I’ve already checked out half the ward, no, I’ve already checked out half the hospital-“

“Prison.”

Arthur laughed. “Half the prison.” More beans, more sauce on Merlin and more mischief in Arthur’s eyes. “And no, not looking for those too insane to be my friends. If you’re sane you’ve lost.”

“Does that mean I have to assume that you found half this prison sane, since you were sitting on your own earlier?”

“Well, too sane for my taste or too high to be able to speak, and were you checking me out?” Arthur pointed his spoon at Merlin with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile on his lips.

Merlin might have been able to come up with a witty answer, but he was furiously blushing again in a matter of milliseconds, so there was no point in denying it.

“You were sitting in my chair.”

“Your chair? Are you still eating that?” Waiting for an answer looked different, but Merlin would have said ‘No’ anyway, so he didn’t mind that Arthur simply grabbed his tray and started digging in.

“My chair,” Merlin confirmed.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Merlin looked down at his hands in his lap, twisting his shirtsleeves.

“I’m afraid I’m too sane for you.”

“Maybe.” Arthur shrugged and Merlin relaxed a little. “You seem to be saner than some of the staff, actually. Especially that one.” Arthur nudged his head in the direction of Nurse Vivien who had a slightly paranoid look about her, standing there pressed against the wall, arms folded across her chest and eyeing anyone who passed her too close for comfort. “But that might speak for you.”

“Why are you in here?” asked Merlin with a raised eyebrow.

“Tell you mine, you tell me yours?”

“Maybe.” _Play it cool, Merlin._

“I tried to kill myself.” While saying this Arthur dipped his finger into the remnants of Merlin’s beans and then proceeded to lick the sauce off.

“Like properly?”

Arthur pulled up his shirtsleeves and showed Merlin the deep cuts across his wrists.

“Idiot, everyone knows that to properly kill yourself you have to cut along the vein, not across it. The blood doesn’t flow fast enough that way.”

Arthur covered his wrists again and grinned at Merlin, raising one eyebrow. Merlin took a second to understand his meaning and then called Arthur an ‘attention whore’.

“I have my reasons,” answered Arthur and his grin broadened. “I like you. So, again, why are you in here?”

Merlin leaned back and looked at Arthur for a few seconds. Arthur was waiting for an answer and Merlin could see the amusement behind his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t run away, maybe he would think it cool and interesting and like Merlin even more for it.

Merlin felt safer dreaming. He pushed back his chair and got up, causing Arthur to look like a kicked puppy.

“Well, you know, talk to the other half of the hospital and check out a few of the staff as well, especially that one,” Merlin nodded at Nurse Vivien, “and you’ll find out soon enough. Trust me.”

He pushed the chair to the table and left Arthur to clean up the mess he had made with his eating habits, not sparing another look. It was better this way. He would know soon enough and then he would be like everyone else: scared, freaked out, leaving the room when Merlin entered or making a huge detour when it looked like they were going to cross paths with him in the hallway. It wouldn't do Merlin any good to get his hopes up based on one enjoyable conversation during lunch only to have them crushed later on, as he was sure they were going to be.

 

Merlin and Morgana had never been the types to care much about other people. It was a mixture of ‘We already are best friends, why do we need anyone else?’ and ‘Others don’t understand this and it’s better if we just keep to ourselves’. So they ignored the world and were happy when the world ignored them. Most of the time.

Even witches and wizards sometimes wanted more; were desperate for more.

He had gone to Merlin's school, in the year above him. He had great hair; dark brown and very full and wild. Merlin always imagined it as rogue snakes fighting with each other over a mouse, slithering from one side to the other, tying themselves into knots, sliding against and over and under each other, and Merlin was in love with that image. Of course, Merlin told Morgana about it in a dreamy dazed infatuated state and she laughed so loud their mother came into the room, asking whether everything was all right. Morgana told her that Merlin was in love with Medusa and their mother rolled her eyes, calling them silly.

For months Merlin had just watched from afar, too nervous, too scared to do anything more. However, he had a sister named Morgana and once she knew about the Medusa guy, it was her mission to "turn Merlin into stone". He fought bravely to not accidentally point the Medusa guy out to her to avert crisis, but any kind of action taken to averting said looming crisis was crushed by the butterflies swarming around in Merlin's stomach when Medusa guy passed the two of them in the hallway, immediately telling Morgana who Merlin fancied.

"You need to be infatuated more often, Merlin. It's a great feeling. I demand you crush on someone new every week. Deal?"

It took Morgana two classes to find out how many girlfriends Medusa guy had had - none - and that he was thought to be gay by at least half the school; and it took her another three hours to set Merlin up on a date with Medusa guy with the help of some of his friends. So that night, Merlin found himself being swept of his feet by the most amazing guy he had ever met until then, ending in a gentle kiss in front of his house.

Merlin had an entire weekend to be in love, to know what it feels like to be hopeful and dreaming about doing couple stuff, dreaming about making out in front of the TV until the parents walk in and cause blushing that would make strawberries look pale, dreaming about walking down the street holding hands.

Had he known, understood and anticipated what being rejected was going to feel like, worse being rejected because of his nature, he would have done anything to stomp the butterflies into dust and counteract the light-headedness with the worst migraine he could conjure up.

On Monday, he had found himself confronted with a wall of laughing students because Medusa guy had claimed to have only pretended to be going out with Merlin to make a fool of him, because who in their sane mind would want to go out with such a freak. He had described in great detail to anyone who wanted to hear it how big of a fool Merlin had made of himself, filling it up with some of the most fantastical lies Merlin had ever heard. Morgana had stopped threatening people somewhere around the twentieth person who called Merlin a poof and laughed at him. It would simply have been more effective for her to curse the entire school.

A week later Merlin had confronted him in the boys’ locker room, wanting to talk to him, but the moment he stepped into the room, Medusa guy yelled: “God, don’t hurt me, please, I’m sorry. Don’t curse me, I didn’t mean to,” and Merlin knew all he needed to know, turned around and never talked to anyone in that school again.

A few incidences over the years had given Merlin and Morgana their reputation, and those who didn’t already know found out the moment they came into closer contact with the weird Dewin twins. Either a nice soul told them or they were mocked or bullied for it. Once the “secret” was known they had all been too afraid to remain friends with Merlin and Morgana. That’s why it had always been just the two of them and Merlin’s one-weekend crush shone brightly in its solitude in the realm of sexual relations.

 

It was likely to remain that way.

 

~

 

Dr Jal was sitting behind his desk, looking frustrated; as he always did during the sessions with Merlin.

“Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to talk about my father? That there is nothing to talk about in fact.” Merlin bit down on his tongue to keep himself from doing something stupid, something too revealing.

Dr Jal sighed dramatically. “The relationship between father and son is very important and it can be vital for the progress in your therapy.”

“I barely know the man. I hadn’t seen him for 11 years before we had to go live with him. I didn’t care for him during those 11 years. I care even less for him now, as you might well imagine.” Merlin’s eyes flashed angrily.

“Do you hate him?”

“How can I hate someone I don’t care about?” Merlin was aware that Dr Jal didn’t believe him, but he had a hard time caring. Dr Jal had fucked up any chance of actually getting Merlin to properly talk about the important things during their first session. Moreover, Gaius’ warning had taken care of the rest. Merlin didn’t trust Dr Jal and he never would. After a few sessions, Merlin had wondered whether he was aware of that fact or whether Dr Jal was still of the opinion that he could get somewhere with his questions.

“How are you settling in?” Dr Jal was very fond of changing the subject when Merlin answered with questions.

“Fine.”

“Friends?”

“Not yet. But I’ve nearly read all the books available in here, so I’m sure I’ll start socialising soon.” Merlin gave him a faked smile. Dr Jal didn’t react to that.

“I’ve been told that you talked with Mr Pendragon during lunch yesterday.” Merlin knew exactly who had told him that. Little Miss Vivien Spy. “Now, he might not be the best choice for you, but he is the social type. You might do well to get to know him better. It’s a place to start.” Merlin narrowed his eyes at Dr Jal. _Not the best choice?_ However, before he could ask what he meant, Dr Jal said:

“It’s not good to live in solitude in here, Mr Dewin,” and it sounded like a threat.

 

~

 

“Did you have someone in your childhood who was a mother figure for you?”

Arthur shrugged. “His secretary perhaps, but no, not really. She was too busy picking up after him to care about a little brat like me.”

“What about nannies? I was kind of expecting you to mention them? Your father has the money, after all.”

Arthur had the decency to blush. “They tended not to last very long, due to my... my special charisma.”

“I’m sure,” chuckled Gaius. “How often was your father gone from home?”

“Often enough to cause a pathological need for attention in me. Listen, I know what you’re doing. Many have done it before you and I’ve never doubted their conclusions, because they were always right. I was deprived of parental love and I’m paying him back with excessive disruptive behaviour, one guy even thought I was manic depressive, and maybe I am. My point is: we can stop this right here, right now, because you are not going to be able to tell me anything new.”

Gaius leaned back in his chair, studying Arthur.

“Look, you seem like a decent and intelligent man, something I couldn’t say about everyone who has ever analysed me in my life. So I’ll give you that, but this is mainly just really fucking boring, so I don’t know, could we talk about something else?” begged Arthur.

“For now we can, of course.”

“But you’re going to come back to this topic at some other point.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Mr Pendragon, I have to,” said Gaius, sounding apologetic. “It is after all what all this is about. You just admitted it yourself.”

“Yes, I admitted it. Why do we have to talk about it?” exclaimed Arthur exasperatedly.

“Because that, Mr Pendragon, is the point of psychoanalysis.”

Arthur slumped into his chair. “Okay, but then you have to stop calling me Mr Pendragon, ‘cause that’s really not helping. Arthur, please.”

Gaius nodded. “So, Arthur, let’s talk about how things are going for you here. I realise not many people here are as outspoken as you are-“

“That’s ‘cause they’re drugged out of their minds. What was that you said about psychoanalysis?”

“- but maybe you’ve already found someone to talk to besides me?” Gaius ignored the snide comment, but a dark shadow flitted across his eyes, which Arthur registered as displeasure at the situation. “It would be good if I’m not the only person you talk to in here, because we’re going to get on each other’s nerves sooner or later. I dare say I hope it’s later, but you will be angry with me at some point, I can assure you.”

“Great lookout.”

Gaius smiled and received a half-smile in return.

“Well? Have you tried to – what’s the word? – mingle?”

Gaius waited patiently for an answer. This silent waiting had always been a part of his assessment, especially when it came to how he should interact with the patient. Quite a few people weren’t able to stand silence and just started talking for the sake of talking. Much of what came out of their mouths was unhelpful, irrelevant to the problem at hand or even counterproductive.

Others needed the time to think through what they were going to say; sometimes just so that they would feel safer, knowing that with everything they said they gave something away. Allowing them to keep a few things in made the trusting process much easier.

Arthur was a mixture of both, it seemed. At times, he just burst out of with snarky comments and cocky answers, which were more for show than anything else, but he also took his time for some answers. Gaius hoped it was the important things he took his time over.

“It’s really difficult. Either, as I said, they’re too drugged out to make great conversation partners or they’re even more fucked up than me, and quite frankly freaking the shit out of me. How are you supposed to make friends? I mean that one guy I walked up to with an extended hand just to say ‘hi’ fucking screamed in my face and then pelted down the corridor and nearly fell down the stairs. That one nurse gave me an earful, because I disturbed another patient. I’ve never had it very easy making friends,” Gaius could hear it in Arthur’s voice how he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered by the fact that friends had been hard to come by for him, “but in here it’s damn near impossible. Even the one person I thought I might be able to talk to and get to know better, who just seemed sane enough, kind of bailed on me at the end of lunch yesterday.”

“Who? If I may ask?” interrupted Gaius.

“His name’s Merlin. One of your other patients?” asked Arthur when he saw Gaius’ knowing look.

“No, I regret to say, but I’ve met him. I think you should keep trying, gently, and he might open up to you. He is quite possibly the sanest person in here. Doctors included. Just a bit, um, shy.”

“Shy?”

“Shy,” nodded Gaius. “I’ll try to edge him towards you, if you like.”

 

~

 

That evening, Merlin knocked on Arthur’s door hesitantly. Gaius was standing at the other end of the corridor watching him, waiting to see whether Arthur would open the door and let him in. They could both do with a good friend. Arthur didn’t seem to have many friends, if any at all. Neither did Merlin and if there was one person in here that Merlin chose to trust beside himself, Gaius thought Arthur was the best choice.

Merlin was shuffling awkwardly, looking as if he would run any second, but then the door opened and a hand grabbed Merlin’s sweat-shirt and pulled him in. By the sounds of it, Merlin hit one of his limbs against the door before the door was hastily shut again. Gaius made a mental note to ask Arthur what that was all about in his next session. At least he hadn’t needed to do the ‘edging towards him’ he had promised Arthur.

Meanwhile, Merlin was standing just as awkwardly by the door inside the room as he had outside of it, rubbing away at the dull pain in his shin with his right foot.

“Sorry about that, but I just got the entire display out. Would kind of suck if one of the nurses or doctors saw that.” _That_ were several piles of all kinds and sizes of pills, scattered all over the bed, with little plastic bags lying on the ground in front of it. Merlin recognized a few of the pills as those he had to take every day. There were others he hadn’t seen before and he wondered where Arthur had gotten them from. Arthur certainly hadn’t brought them in from the outside. Merlin remembered too well the search when he arrived here, which had been so invasive that Merlin had felt violated for days, nothing had been sacred for these people. No way would anyone be able to smuggle drugs in.

“Where did you get all these?”

Arthur grinned proudly. “Just used my good looks and charm to distract the nurses.”

“Won’t somebody notice when pills go missing? I mean that’s a lot.”

Arthur waved Merlin’s concern off. “I only ever take a few out of the bottles, and they’re drugging all of us senseless, anyway, they only keep count of the bottles, not the separate pills.”

“You’ve done extensive work already.” Merlin pointed to a big pile of light orange pills, which were on his daily menu, but he had never found out what exactly they were.

“Oh, those, yeah they’re sedatives. Puts you into a nice calm stupor, a bit like being high, I tried it once, but marijuana is better, but yeah, they like restocking those every other day. If I take two, three or four out of a bottle, it’s not noticeable. And honestly, it’s not like these people really care as long as we stay nice and quiet,” scoffed Arthur, taking one of the orange pills between his fingers, looking at it with disgust.

“Gaius cares.”

Arthur shrugged.

“He’s your psychiatrist.” Merlin was astounded at Arthur’s reaction. “I wish he was mine. He actually knows what he’s doing.”

“I suppose. I’m still playing the insubordinate. I’m not going to make it too easy for him. The only thing he’ll tell me is that my relationship with my father sucks, which, duh, I know.”

“You should give him more credit than that,” said Merlin angrily. He cursed himself, because he had come here to make a friend and not put him off. Arthur looked at him, intrigued.

“And how do you know that?”

Merlin averted his eyes. Theoretically, once you were assigned to one psychiatrist you had little contact with any of the other doctors and that contact certainly did not include long conversations.

“I ran into him one night and he helped me with a few things my own guy couldn’t. Not that I’d want him too.”

Arthur stayed quiet for a while. He had stopped collecting the pills into the little plastic bags and just stared at the wall ahead. Merlin began to wonder whether there might be something wrong with Arthur, when he shook his head and looked up at Merlin.

“Maybe you’re right. I should definitely call myself lucky that I didn’t get that idiot Dr Jal.” Arthur was back to his exuberant, chipper self, screwing up his face in a mocking, ‘I don’t believe this guy’-image, so Merlin decided to ignore the preceding silence. ”That guy probably thinks that he should be a professor at Oxford or something instead of being in this lousy shithole.”

“Well, he should have sucked more dicks then.”

Arthur threw his head back in laughter. “Oh my god, Merlin, who would have thought you could be so vulgar. You always look like a cute little puppy whose most unholy experience was pooping on the neighbour’s freshly mowed lawn.”

“What? I’m not a puppy,” said Merlin indignantly. “And I’m certainly not innocent.”

“Ah, good to know.” Arthur raised an eyebrow, making Merlin blush furiously. “Don’t worry me neither.”

Merlin snorted and nodded at the drugs. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“Want one?” Arthur held up one of the sedatives.

“No, thanks, I could start my own collection if I wanted to; I get four a day, likely to be more sometime soon. I’ve heard them arguing that they don’t seem to have the desired effect on me.”

“Not good at pretending your brainless?”

Merlin pulled a face.

“Not really. Need to work on that.”

“Just trip a lot and walk into furniture, that’s half the trick. There,” said Arthur, standing up and dumping the plastic bags in a hole beside his desk, before putting a loose floorboard over it again. “Now you can stop standing awkwardly by the door, fiddling with the doorknob and sit down. Come on, don’t be shy. I don’t bite, so there’s no need for you to escape and I’ll try my best not to be a presumptuous snobbish rich-boy.”

Merlin hadn’t realised what his right hand had been doing all this time. He pulled it away from the doorknob quickly, but since he didn’t have any pockets on his trousers, it sort of flopped to his side and dangled there just as awkwardly. He coughed.

“So, basically, I would have succeeded in pretending I’m cool and relaxed, if it hadn’t been for the hand?”

“Yeah.” Arthur stifled a laugh and patted the bed spread beside him. “Sit down, wizard boy.”

Merlin’s hand twitched towards the doorknob. He was ready to run. “Wizard boy?” Despite what he had told himself and despite the 90% chance that Arthur was going to find out, Merlin had been hoping that he wouldn’t. That he’d see him as a normal guy who had just had a bit of bad luck and landed in here.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist, but, come on, with a name like Merlin it’s a perfect nickname.” Arthur pushed his lower lip out in a pout. Merlin breathed out and tried to smile, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered why his mother had picked these names for him and his sister. As if she had known right from the beginning.

Merlin slowly moved towards the bed and settled on the edge of it, putting his hands on his knees, not quite knowing what to do now. What did you do in situations like this? What did you talk about? Merlin vaguely remembered asking himself the same questions while on that date with Medusa guy in secondary school, but he was quite sure he hadn’t had any answers back then either.

Arthur was obviously a lot more comfortable. He took off his shoes and folded his legs underneath him. Turning slightly towards Merlin, he leaned with his elbows on his thighs. “Soooo, Merlin.”

“Yes?”

“I still don’t know why you’re in here. No one was actually willing to tell me.” There was something in the way that he said this that made Merlin wonder whether he was telling the truth. His expression did nothing to help Merlin calm down, Arthur screwing up his eyes, frowning at Merlin with his head leaning slightly to the right. Arthur was simply trying to figure the other one out, not quite sure what to make of this boy with the unusual name, but to Merlin it looked as if he was trying to figure out whether what he had heard was really true. It didn’t help that Merlin had seen that look before and it had never resulted in making friends.

“Mind you, only half of these people are actually capable of talking,” shrugged Arthur. “But tell me.”

Merlin looked at the floor where the pills were hidden. He looked at the desk that was full of papers, most of them declaring the outrageous, pitiful, desperate act of Arthur Pendragon and how his father had driven him to it; and he decided against it.

“Can I not tell you?” he asked quietly. “Yet?”

Arthur pouted. Merlin looked at him incredulously. “Aw, come on, it’s my pouty face. It works on everybody.”

Merlin burst out laughing. “Maybe, but I’ve got a sister whose pouty face is much better than yours; and I’ve been able to resist hers for years now. Sorry, not doing anything for me.”

“Damn.” Arthur punched the air in mock anger.

“Is it something bad?” He asked cautiously after a minute of silence.

Merlin shifted. “Not bad, per se, just something that... it will freak you out.”

“Why don’t people ever give me enough credit?” Arthur said it with such defeat and sadness that Merlin regretted his early assumption about Arthur’s looming freak-out that he didn’t know for certain what was really going to happen. Never the less he didn’t want to tell Arthur just yet. He couldn’t quite explain what held him back. He’d told Gaius without a second thought.

“What are these about?” asked Merlin, pointing at the stack of newspapers on the desk. It was a distraction for both Merlin’s and Arthur’s sake.

“Well, it’s all over the papers that I tried to kill myself. I thought I’d cut out the pieces and put them into a folder or do a collage or something. Then I’m going to give it to my father for his birthday – it’s in three weeks – you know, a collage of his parental achievements. He’ll be real proud.”

Merlin hesitated. Technically, he didn’t have the right to pry, when he wasn’t willing to give away information himself. The newspaper articles, however, didn’t exactly suggest that Arthur had problems talking about this.

“Is that the reason you did that, you tried to kill yourself? To, I don’t know, humiliate your father?”

“Yeah. It was all for show, never actually meant to kill myself.”

“Why?”

“Well, my father made himself rich by being a heartless dickhead. Leading his company into success – granted he did that pretty well – he had always wanted his son to take over said company once he was old enough and has done everything to ensure that I’m properly raised, while not having to do it himself. He won’t accept the fact that I have no stinking interest in taking over the company. Since I turned eight it’s been an on-going battle. The fact that he also entered politics, which meant that the time he didn’t spend at his firm, he spent talking nonsense with other men who didn’t give a fuck about their children either, well, that didn’t exactly help. Just made him even more of an arsehole.”

“So that means you would do anything to spite your father?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I have a grand collection of ‘things-I-did-to-piss-off-my-father’. This one really hit home. The journalists loved it.”

“You’re weird,” said Merlin with a grin.

“I take that as a compliment, Merlin, my fellow lunatic.”

“You do that.”

Arthur burst out laughing and clapped a hand to Merlin’s shoulder, holding on while he bent over double. The butterflies inside Merlin’s stomach went insane again.

 

~


	3. Part 3

~~~

Merlin was lying on his bed, aching to let out the energy he had felt building for days now. He had thought about hiding under his bed and creating moving pictures on the wooden base with his magic. It was a neat little thing to pass the time that Morgana and he had been doing ever since they had been six.

She told him stories and he made them come to life. But even if he could stop the magic in time should one of the nurses just burst into his room unannounced, he would still have a hard time explaining why he was hiding under the bed and no matter what excuse he could come up with it didn’t make it look any less suspicious.

He wished he could rely on only ten minutes of absolute privacy. He would feel so much better.

To prove his fears the door burst open and a vibrant Morgana stepped into the room. At first, Merlin thought she was angry at something, but she was actually smiling. She closed the door, a little too energetically.

“You know, Merlin-“ but before she could continue, the door opened again and Nurse Vivien came into the room, both hands on her hips.

“Are you trying to bring the house down? Doors can be closed quietly!”

“Are you trying to win the award for most annoying and nosiest person on the planet?” Merlin snickered at Morgana’s comment and by the look on Nurse Vivien’s face he knew it was going to cost him dearly later on. She would probably spit in his lunch or something. “Okay, wait hang on, let me show you how I can close doors quietly.”

Morgana moved in on Nurse Vivien until she had to relent and move out of the room and Morgana closed the door in her face, but there was only the smallest of sounds as it clicked into the doorframe.

“I think she hates you even more than she hates me,” said Merlin.

“Pff, she hates everyone. That doesn’t faze me. So, anyway, Merlin-“

“Wait. She’s still listening,” interrupted Merlin in a whisper.

“Okay.” Morgana shooed Merlin up the bed and settled at the foot of it, leaning forward slightly. “Again, Merlin, who is it?” she whispered.

“Who is what?” whispered Merlin back.

“You’re supposed to be miserable and depressed in this place, but instead all I’ve been feeling these past few days is happy and giddy, and I’m pretty sure those aren’t my feelings. So, who is it? And is he cute?”

“He is.”

“Name?”

“Arthur.”

“Gay?”

“Don’t know.”

“Ooh, we have to find that out, like now. Come on.” Morgana was moving to get up, but Merlin tugged her back down by her arm.

“No, we don’t. Listen, I don’t think I want to know, because he’s probably not and then I’ll be disappointed and right now, having him around is what’s keeping me sane. If he finds out about this, the magic, my sexuality, and runs... I don’t know ... I... I just don’t want that, okay. It’s nice the way it is. I want to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

It was nice. It was very nice, in fact. They had been sitting together at meal times for the last few days, taking longer than anyone else, trying to steal as much food as they could for Kilgharrah without being too obvious and making up nonsensical gossip to confuse the staff that kept walking by, trying to listen in to their conversations.

 

 _“Did you know that Goethe was actually Schiller and Schiller was actually Goethe?”_

 _“Get out of here! No way!”_

 _“Yes, I read it in Weekly World News. Oh and then there was another article about the biggest mushroom on the planet on a farm in Kansas, that’s in America, that was so big it threw shadows on the farm houses. True stuff.”_

 _“You are such a dork, Merlin,” exclaimed Arthur with tears in his eyes after the nurse had moved along far enough to not be able to hear them anymore._

 _“Did you know that dork is the word for the penis of a blue whale?”_

 _Arthur snorted into his porridge and sprayed it all over the table._

 _“Ew, Arthur, seriously. Where is your princely behaviour, or did your father’s employees fail to teach you that?” asked Merlin, wiping his sprinkled shirtsleeves on Arthur’s arms._

 _“I believe they tried, but I spent too much of my childhood thinking up evil plans to really remember,” said Arthur, licking porridge from his hand. “And I loved their exasperated faces too much to really try too hard.”_

 

They also spent a lot of time in Arthur’s room tearing out newspaper articles, since they weren’t allowed scissors, and arranging them on the floor, trying to see which articles would have the best effects placed next to each other. Even though they weren’t always sure that there wasn’t someone on the other side of the door listening in, or, as Arthur was convinced, that there wasn’t a hidden camera or microphone somewhere to record their conversations, the time spent in Arthur’s rooms where the only occasions they could properly talk to each other.

They had quickly bonded over their horrible fathers, though Arthur had more stories to tell.

 

 _“Okay, so basically besides this the most horrific thing I’ve done so far, for him anyway, was when I took all my furniture out of my room – well, okay, I threw it out of the window, the open window though – and burned it in the backyard. When my father asked me why I told him that I felt I needed new furniture to represent my status as the future CEO of the firm, something more mature. So, he sent out people to get new furniture. You know, the super modern, minimalistic and functional kind. Yeah, yeah, not me, I know,” said Arthur at Merlin’s unbelieving look. “Anyway, the next day I threw all that out of the window and burned it in the backyard.”_

 _Merlin shook his head in amused disbelief._

 _“I got a few random things of a flea market, like a really old chair with torn upholstery and a small table with feet that looked like lion’s paws. I loved that table. Then I drew graffiti all over the walls. I thought he was ready to kill me. He asked me why, and I said that I was confused yesterday and that I didn’t want to take over his boring job after all, or something like that. Anyway, what followed was the most intense fight we’ve ever had. I wish I had taped it. I could have put it up on YouTube. He completely freaked.”_

 _“Why do you do that? If you hate him so much and if you don’t want to do what he wants then why don’t you just leave?” Merlin could guess, but he wanted to hear it from Arthur himself. Arthur just shrugged and fiddled with the duvet._

 _“It’s too much fun,” he said, but the lack of enthusiasm and glee didn’t support his statement. Merlin didn’t pressure him._

 

In return, Arthur listened to Merlin talk about his mother and sister. The close bond he had had with his mother, the close bond he still had with Morgana. Merlin learned not to talk about it too much, no matter how much Arthur asked, because the longing in Arthur’s eyes made him feel guilty. It didn’t take Merlin long to realize what a sad person Arthur was. Then again, it probably didn’t take Arthur long to realize what a sad person Merlin was.

The “worst-and-best” conversation they had had the day before had rather nailed it to the wall with full force.

 

 _“Worst place you’ve ever lived?” Merlin had asked._

 _“Home,” answered Arthur without having to think about it._

 _“Best place you’ve ever lived?”_

 _“Here.”_

 _It took Merlin a while before he finally asked why._

 _“Because you’re here.”_

 _Arthur pulled a grimace and made fun of how cheesy it sounded, but Merlin just crumpled up a bit of newspaper and threw it at Arthur’s head to shut him up, before nodding. He understood, and he knew he could consider himself lucky that he had always had Morgana._

 

“You’re living in a dream world, Merlin,” said Morgana accusingly.

“So what if I am. It’s nice there.”

There was a knock on the door. Morgana almost looked shocked that someone in this building actually knocked.

“It’s Arthur. Come in,” Merlin called out.

The door opened only wide enough to let Arthur through, before he closed it again quietly. “Oh hey, okay, wow, yes, twins, I can definitely see it. Hi, I’m Arthur.”

“I know, I’ve just been told about you.”

“Only the good stuff I hope. And with the good stuff I mean the bad stuff, of course.” Arthur punched Morgana in the arm and laughed.

Morgana raised an eyebrow. Turning to Merlin, she said, “Okay, either he has no clue how to behave around girls, because he’s never been around many girls or he has no clue how to be around girls, because he’s gay. Judging by the hair, I’d say gay. You’re lucky, Merlin.”

“Right, well, Arthur this is my ‘lovely’ sister, Morgana. She’s very obnoxious and annoying, like little sisters are supposed to be, but she can pretend to be nice if I make her.”

“Though he rarely succeeds in doing so. Nice to meet you, Arthur.” She held out her hand to him and Arthur took it warily.

“Nice to meet you too.” Arthur coughed, looked towards the door and coughed again. Then he leaned closer. “Merlin told me that you smuggled the rat in.”

“His name’s Kilgharrah,” Merlin said exasperated.

“How did you do that? More importantly: can you smuggle stuff out? Do they like search you when you leave the building?”

“Arthur! You are not using my sister for your drug dealing,” exclaimed Merlin.

“Oh yes, Arthur, you are,” said Morgana, putting an arm around Arthur’s waist, drawing close. “What kind of drugs are we talking about?”

“Mostly the sedative kind which is going to give you a nice high if you don’t take too many. Too many and you drool like a baby needing your ass wiped every two hours, but just the right amount and you will be on a better high than the marijuana-induced kind, I guarantee.”

“And where would I be selling them?”

“Nowhere, I’ll be doing that once I’m out of here. I just need you to store them for me for the time being, ‘cause it does feel a bit too hot keeping them here. My hiding place isn’t 100% fool proof. I’ll give you a nice reward for your troubles though, with the promise of more later.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Merlin flopped down full length on the bed, covering his eyes with his right arm.

“Merlin? I like him. You can have sex with him. In fact, I strongly encourage it.” Morgana laughed when Merlin groaned and rolled over on his side, facing the wall and trying to hide his face as well as he could in his pillow.

“I appreciate the permission, Morgana.” After that, it was fits of laughter and giggles and discussions of creepy storage places in the dodgy part of town.

 

~

 

In his, nearly 50 years of practice, Gaius had had several patients whom he had looked at and had made him grateful that he had never had any children. It would have killed him to see his own son or daughter distraught, hurt and insecure knowing that it had probably been his fault. Merlin and Arthur weren’t by far the worst cases of parental mistreatment and neglect he had ever witnessed, but they too gave him that grateful feeling at being childless. A lot of people used to say that having children can give one so much, and he assumed they were right, but he had always known what parents are capable of doing to their children. It was a relief, one less burden, and he had enough of those as it was.

Gaius knew it had been risky asking Arthur whether he’d like to have his father come to one of the sessions. He also didn’t like to force people into situations they would feel uncomfortable with. That was a last resort. Gaius was someone who always asked first.

He expected Arthur to be angry, instead the young man raised an eyebrow and said: “Good luck with that. I hardly think he’d be willing to come, apart from the fact that he won’t have the time.”

“He’s your father; perhaps you should give him more credit.”

Arthur was shaking his head. “You’re delusional. Not all parents care about their children. My father doesn’t care about me.”

“Maybe it just looks like that because you kept pushing him away?”

“He never pulled me close enough to actually be able to push him away.”

“Might that not just be your impression?”

“He didn’t want me in the first place and then I killed the love of his life. Then I don’t even do what he wants me to. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out that he hates me. He doesn’t have to fucking say it.” Arthur leaned forward, shoulders hunched and his hands gripping the armrests of the chair.

“Arthur?”

Silent tears. That was the most surprising thing. There wasn’t even a quiver in the shoulders or a quiet sob escaping his mouth, just the tears falling from his eyes onto his jeans. Gaius had expected Arthur to be someone who raged; a bit like Merlin had, only on a more physical and less magical level… this? This spoke of pent-up dreams, fears, and emotions that had rarely or ever been spoken or shown to the outside world and to his father.

He walked around his desk, put a hand on Arthur’s head and pulled him towards his chest.

Gaius didn’t check his watch, but he felt like they’d been in that position for at least ten minutes, before Arthur finally pulled away, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeves. Gaius slowly returned to his seat, folding his fingers in front of his face. Arthur coughed.

“I know it’s not time yet, but can I finish early? Merlin and Morgana are waiting for me and I just... I can’t deal with anything else right now.”

Gaius nodded. They’d gotten far today, anything else would cause more torment that could cost him the trust he’d built so far. Also, time spent with Merlin and Morgana would probably be the right thing for Arthur now. They had time. They could talk about this at another stage, when Arthur was willing.

“You like Morgana?” asked Gaius as Arthur was just at the door.

Arthur turned around and nodded with a smile. “Yeah, she’s a laugh. Plus, you know, you kind of have to like her. I don’t think you could be friends with Merlin if you didn’t.”

“That’s certainly true. Good day, Arthur.”

Two hours later, Gaius saw Arthur sitting with Merlin and Morgana by the TV, making fun of and imitating the daily soap that was on at the time. Arthur was laughing raucously and Gaius wished that he wasn’t asking himself whether that laugh was real or put on.

 

~

 

Even though he actively sought them, sometimes being around Merlin and Morgana was close to unbearable. Arthur sometimes got these attacks of jealousy when he saw them together, just laughing or bantering or, like now, hugging goodbye. Arthur envied them for what they had in each other and wished he could say he really had one person in his life that came close. There was Gwen, but she was his father’s PR agent/manager(?) and always had to keep a respectful distance according to business rules. They had had their moments, but only when no one else was around, and those were rare. No, Arthur never had what Merlin and Morgana had, and it ripped a fresh wound nearly every time he saw them.

Then Morgana would do something like hug him just as tightly as she had Merlin and it dressed the wound.

“If you hear sirens, I didn’t get the pills out,” she murmured into his shoulder, squeezing tightly once more before letting him go. “But I don’t think there’ll be any.”

She gave both men a quick peck on the cheek, waved and strolled out of the door with every ounce of her usual confidence.

Arthur turned to Merlin. “If she does get arrested, will you kill me?”

“No,” said Merlin and started down the hallway towards his room. He waited for Arthur to follow before continuing. “I will however make you go down on your knees in front of your father and beg him for forgiveness and the favour to bail your friend out of jail.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I know.”

It was almost instinctive when Arthur reached out, grabbed Merlin’s hand and squeezed it lightly. For a second Merlin simply squeezed back.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.” _Friend._

 

~

 

Gaius spontaneously decided to eat in the cafeteria as he saw Merlin standing in line. As much as he hated admitting it to himself, he felt the urge to know what Merlin had told Arthur. Since Arthur was nowhere in sight it was the best opportunity. Gaius sidled closer.

“Where did you leave your partner in crime?” he asked while taking the bowl of orange tomato soup from the cook. Though their crimes consisted of hiding in their rooms or making inappropriate jokes about the TV programme, to the nursing staff they were a thorn in their institution that was running so smoothly.

It was an on-going fight. The doctors for the most part encouraged the patients to make friends. The nursing staff tried to discourage too much bonding for fear that it might cause rebellion. The patients were stuck in middle of all it, unsure of what to do.

“Morgana or Arthur?” Merlin looked at the meatballs with a disgusted face. If there ever had been a time to become a vegetarian, it was now.

“Arthur. Though Morgana seems to have been visiting more often now, hasn’t she?” Gaius declined the meatballs as well.

“Yeah, she’s been getting quite creative with evading my father and grandmother. Yesterday she ordered 25 pizzas and snuck out of the backdoor while they were still arguing with the delivery boy.”

“Very creative.”

“She’s been getting kind of ruthless ever since my father hit her. That was his mistake,” said Merlin as he moved towards a table in the far corner of the room.

Gaius slowed down in shock, but quickly followed Merlin into the corner. “He hit her?”

“Well, she says it was an accident, but I don’t believe her. They got into a pretty nasty fight over me, apparently and in the heat of the moment he hit her. Not that she confirmed that.”

“I like your father less and less.” Gaius raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

Merlin looked up in mock-shock. “Sir, where’s your professionalism?”

“As long as you don’t tell anyone, I’m allowed to be as unprofessional as I want to be.”

“Well, now I’ve got a secret to keep too.”

“Have you told Arthur?”

Merlin put down his spoon and pushed the tray away from him. The soup spilt over the edge of the bowl, landing on the salad, or what should be salad but looked more like a chunky coleslaw milkshake.

“I knew you were going to ask that.”

“I’ll interpret that as a ‘no’. Merlin, my unprofessionalism only goes so far and I’m not allowed to talk about my patients to others, but in my humble professional or unprofessional opinion, Arthur is someone who I think will understand.” Gaius looked searchingly at the food. “I think we had this exact menu only three days ago.”

“We did. Why are you even eating here? Can’t you go somewhere where they actually have real food? You don’t have to hang out with the freaks.”

“You’re avoiding the topic.”

“You started it,” snapped Merlin in a quiet voice.

“Merlin! I’m not your enemy.”

Merlin scoffed at him. “Right now, everybody is. And I mean everybody.”

“If that were the case then why did you go to Arthur? Why did you try to become friends with him?” Gaius had forgotten his food as well. He could always get a quick snack from the supermarket down the street between appointments. The tray landed next to Merlin’s where Merlin’s elbow nearly upended it as he put his head on the table.

“I don’t know. I got scared,” mumbled Merlin at the table, shrugging with his shoulders.

“Scared of your gift?”

Merlin looked up and around to see if anyone was close enough to listen in, but as usual, everyone else was sitting a few tables away. “No, well yes, but no, that’s not it. It’s... Dr Jal, he’s been making these comments like- what?”

Gaius had leaned back with a wary glance. “Nurse Vivien keeps looking at me. I’m sorry, Merlin, I’m treading dangerous ground here, but I can guess what he said, and what you have to do now is not push away your sister or Arthur. Dr Jal is trying to confuse you, make you insecure, and pull the ground out from under your feet until you crack. I’ve seen him do it before. I don’t approve, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I report him, he gets supervised for a time, but does everything according to protocol and then nothing changes.”

Gaius gathered the tray back to him and made to get up. Merlin grabbed his hand.

“Originally-“He paused, because Arthur had just entered the lunch room with a woman Merlin didn’t know. “I didn’t want to at first, but then Dr Jal said something and I thought it’d be safer if I had at least one friend.” Merlin let go of Gaius and folded his hands in his lap. “And then today he said that Morgana was the one keeping me here.”

Gaius frowned. “In what context?”

“None. He just said it as I was walking out of the door. Then he dismissed me with ‘I’ll see you on Monday, Mr Dewin’. If he’s trying to scare and confuse me, then he is definitely succeeding. And I’m not the most stable person at the moment to begin with.”

Gaius leaned in to whisper into Merlin’s ear. “Just don’t push them away. That’s what he’s trying to make you do. So that you won’t have anyone to fall back on.”

“Hey, old man, I saw you tackling Thomas, or whoever he was at the time, this morning. That was fierce the way you threw yourself on him with your walking stick. You know I don’t even know whether he really is called Thomas. He introduced himself as Thomas, but is that is actual personality or just one of the fake ones?” Arthur stuffed a spoonful of salad into his mouth even before he had sat down next to Merlin.

“Mr Pendragon, all of these personalities are real, but his name on his birth certificate is indeed Thomas,” said Gaius, scooping his tray up into his arms.

“It’s Arthur.”

“And it’s Gaius and not old man.”

“Right sir, sorry sir. Still, fierce action this morning.” The woman sat down across from Arthur, shaking her head at him.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm about the perks of being a psychiatrist, Arthur.” Gaius directed his gaze at the woman and held his hand out. “I presume you are Guinevere?”

“Gwen’s fine,” she answered with a bit of an uncomfortable expression on her face.

“Nice to meet you. I have to run. I have only twenty minutes left until my next appointment and I have to walk down the street and buy a proper lunch. My hips aren’t the best anymore.” He squeezed Merlin’s shoulder as he left.

Arthur waved over his shoulder. “Are you still eating this, Em?”

“Em?”

“Mate, your name is difficult to shorten. Em is all my creative skills could come up with,” said Arthur as if it was the greatest thing in the world. He had grabbed Merlin’s tray and ladled the food onto his own.

“Hi Merlin, very pleased to meet you. I’m Gwen, his father’s PR manager and his furious babysitter,” said Gwen, pointing at Arthur with her index and middle finger in a horizontal v-formation. “He tends to forget about me around potential sex partners. Ow, Arthur!” Gwen reached down to rub her shin.

“She’s joking,” Arthur said quickly.

“Sure,” said Merlin, shrugging his shoulders again.

“You okay?” Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. Arthur was a very touchy-feely kind of guy. Merlin wasn’t, especially when he wasn’t feeling okay. He shrugged the comforting hand away.

“Yeah, I just gotta go. Meeting. Nice to meet you, Gwen.” He managed a smile in Gwen’s direction, but didn’t look at Arthur.

They both followed him with their eyes, except they didn’t see the same thing. Arthur saw Merlin, the amazing, funny, sensitive boy. Gwen saw a scared boy who seemed to be utterly alone in the world, people shrinking away from him, looking at him with wary eyes.

“Thanks Gwen,” snarled Arthur, pulling Gwen out of her thoughts.

If Gwen was anything, then she was honest. Brutally at times. If Arthur asked for her opinion, he got it. If he didn’t, he still got it. With her honesty came a sort of regal posture that made her appear as if she was just born to be in High Society, though in reality she had to work her way up. Her general appearance didn’t exactly hinder her, though. Her looks, her face that could be gentle but also frighteningly determined at the same time, her posture and hand gestures – it all produced a perfect picture, which would have made her the perfect daughter-in-law, or so his father thought. Gwen knew Arthur was gay and had no interest whatsoever, but well, his father also knew he was gay, but still had every interest and tried everything in his feeble and painfully obvious repertoire to bring them together.

Her honesty and strong character, and the fact that she thought of herself as Arthur’s fag hag, guaranteed that she would point out suitable love affairs or possibly long-term partners, the operative word being suitable, and that she took it into her own hands to bring Arthur closer to said suitable love affair. So with the embarrassment also came the slightly smug feeling that apparently Gwen approved, if he were to go by her ‘very pleased to meet you’.

“What?” asked Gwen innocently. “I was just stating the obvious, and just so you know, he looked quite okay with the sexual partner-thing right up until you ruined it by saying ‘she’s joking’. Where is the flirty Arthur I know and detest?”

“Detest?”

“It brings a lot of trouble. You might not notice it, but I certainly do, because I have to cover it up so it doesn’t embarrass your father.” She sighed at the thought of all the work that she had to put into covering Arthur’s sometimes-disastrous affairs, really more for his sake than for his father’s.

“Sometimes I wonder why I even like you.”

“Oh believe me Arthur, I do too.”

Arthur smiled at her, before pointing. “Are you still eating your salad?”

“No, because this isn’t even salad. I’m going to bring you real food tomorrow, as long as you don’t do anything else stupid. Honestly, I should hate you for all the work you gave me by pulling this stunt.” She glared at him furiously and he dropped his shoulders in guilt. “It WAS a stunt, right?”

“Yes,” said Arthur reassuringly, putting his hand over hers for a second. “I planned it all out beforehand, so that I wouldn’t actually die.”

“Did you plan on landing in here?”

Arthur’s face darkened. “No. I thought he’d just get me another one of those overpriced private shrinks to talk to me once a week and it would be done with.”

Gwen folded her arms. “What did you expect? Trying to kill yourself is a bit overkill.” She paused and looked at Arthur thoughtfully, who just cleaned up the scant leftover salad with his finger. “But it shows that he does care for you, you can’t deny that,” she said quietly.

Arthur sighed. “Gwen, the problem was never that he didn’t care. The problem was always that he cared in the wrong places, at the wrong times, in the wrong ways. He wants me to marry you, take over the company, be a proper man and then give a shit about what my sons and daughters want. That’s just wrong.”

He pushed himself up from his chair. “Come on, let me give you the tour of my new crib.”

Since the ward was closed off from other parts of the house, the tour didn’t take up too much time and they ended up sitting in the lounge, Gwen in the chair and Arthur sitting on the window ledge by the open window, holding onto the bars.

“Has there been any indication as to how soon you can get out? You know, when you’re not sitting on window ledges looking ready to jump?” asked Gwen disapprovingly.

“Nope. Might take a few weeks, might take a few months, if I’m really lucky it’ll take a few years.” Arthur was running his fingers along the bars.

“Lunatic is certainly a better occupation than manager of a multi-million pound firm.” Gwen clapped her hand over her mouth the moment she finished the sentence. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean to. That was mean. I’m sorry.”

Arthur laughed and prodded her knee with his foot. “Relax, Gwen. You’re right. I don’t want to stay here forever. But it’s going to-“Arthur broke off, his eyes following a drained-looking Merlin as he made his way over to the bookshelf and skimmed the lines of worse-for-wear books. Other patients, who had been sitting in chairs or on the floor nearby, got up and left the area in quick, stumbling steps. Merlin didn’t seem fazed by it. The nurse with the red hair was standing at the door to the station office, watching Merlin’s every move. He finally picked a book, clasped it in his right hand, nearly engulfing it, it was so small and walked back towards his room. Shortly after, all the patients who had fled came traipsing back.

“What was that?” asked Gwen, completely bewildered.

“I don’t know. He’s kind of sad today, like more than usual. Something’s bothering him.” Arthur raked a hand through his hair, staring at the direction into which Merlin had disappeared.

“No, not – that’s not what I meant I mean, everybody just left, got out of his way.”

Arthur waved her off. “Oh yeah, they always do that. With me too. That’s normal.”

Gwen stared at Arthur incredulously, before getting up and hitting him over the head. “Arthur, you arrogant dumbo.”

“Ow, what the fuck?”

“They’re not doing it because of you and your father. They’re not doing it because Merlin hangs out with a rich brat, who is so full of himself and too ridiculously infatuated with the guy to notice.”

“I didn’t think they did it because I’m rich. I noticed it before I even talked to him,” Arthur defended himself. “I thought, like, Merlin kept to himself, is shy. So, I assumed he had just pushed them away and they just gave him the space he had demanded. Since I’m friends with him, they just assumed I was the same, I suppose.”

“Okay, I’ll take the ‘arrogant’ back then. But you’re still a dumbo.” Gwen waited for Arthur to finally realise what was going on, but Arthur just looked at her vacantly. “They’re scared of him.”

“What? Come on,” exclaimed Arthur, looking at her as if she was joking.

“Arthur, I know what I saw. Those people were terrified. They avoid him because they’re scared. They avoid you because apparently you’re not scared, when in fact you’re just clueless.”

“Why would they be scared o-“Arthur interrupted himself, his unbelieving expression changing into something more serious.

“Sometimes you’re a bit slow, aren’t you? You sure that all those drugs didn’t affect your brain?” asked Gwen affectionately.

“What, um, oh yeah, no effect, I mean, they haven’t – no. Listen Gwen, is it alright if I kick you out?”

She shook her head and put a hand on his cheek. “You do what you have to do. I’ll try to come back as soon as possible and bring you something good to eat.”

“Yeah, bye.” He gave her a peck on the cheek absentmindedly and strolled of down the hallway towards Merlin’s room.

 

~

 

He knocked, but Merlin didn’t say ‘come in’ immediately as if he already knew that this wasn’t going to be one of the funnier conversations.

“Hey,” said Merlin quietly, not looking up from his book.

“Hey,” said Merlin quietly, not looking up from his book.

“Hey.” Arthur sat down on the bed awkwardly, wiping his hands on his jeans. He grabbed the front of the cover and read the title. _Knight of my Dreams._ “Seriously?”

“It’s the only one I haven’t read yet.”

“Right.” Arthur settled on the bed, back to the wall, legs outstretched in front of him. He expected Merlin to shut the book and look at him, but Merlin just kept reading.

“Merlin?” No reaction. “Right, whatever.” But Arthur didn’t move either. Now that he was here, he wanted to know. He chewed the inside of his mouth, trying to think how to say what he wanted to say.

“Okay, you know what, Merlin? When I first saw you and then after I got to know you, I always just attributed your hermit lifestyle to your shyness and your nerdy behaviour,” he said finally. Arthur could see how Merlin’s face fell and the shiver that ran down his spine.

“So?”

“Well, I noticed how people sort of avoided you, right from the first day I got here. I thought, hey okay, this guy had apparently made it very clear that he didn’t want to have friends and wanted to be left alone. Which actually, made you more interesting, so I sat down opposite you at lunch. Even Gaius called you shy.

So, you know, after you knocked on my door that day and we sort of hit it off, I kind of expected to be laughed at because I’m hanging out with the nerdy loser. Or expected to be thanked by the doctors because I’m hanging out with the shy and problematic guy and giving him a friend and drawing him out and shit.” Arthur paused. “And I’ve kind of been a bit blind, kind of thought that they were all in awe of me, and respected me. I’m the drug-dealing spoilt brat of a rich father. I should be ridiculed.” Arthur slid forwards on the bed, leaning closer to Merlin, staring him right in the face.

“They’re scared of you. Even the nurses.”

Merlin leaned away from Arthur and averted his eyes. His head was screaming and the scream throbbed against the inside of his skull, hammering against it, stopping him from thinking. He didn’t need this today, not after what Dr Jal had said, not after the talk with Gaius. He barely registered how Arthur retreated to the far side of the bed.

“They’re scared of you.”

Arthur never asked the question and later on, he wondered what had prevented him. Maybe he already knew that Merlin would have shut down completely, would have withdrawn into the deep recesses of his antisocial behaviour patterns and never talked to him again. By not asking, Arthur ensured that he was simply told. By not asking, Arthur left the door marked with his name open. Of course, it was Morgana who actually told him, a few days later, but that didn’t actually matter. Morgana was Merlin. Merlin was Morgana. You couldn’t have one without the other. Even saying ‘one’ felt somewhat wrong.

That didn’t keep Arthur from waiting for Merlin to tell him. They sat and waited for each other to say something. After more than an hour of just sitting there, silently, a large shadow drawing around them, Morgana stormed in, a nurse on her heels.

“The visiting hours are over, Miss. You can’t just come whenever you feel like it. It disrupts-“

“Piss off.” It was directed at Arthur, but the nurse took the liberty of being affronted.

There was a second of hesitation, but Merlin’s eyes threw him a desperate glance of ‘please go’ and Arthur obliged. He shut the door behind him and told the nurse that he had a terrible headache and might possibly need some aspirin.

 

~

 

It wasn’t entirely suspicious that over the next few days whenever Arthur was about to enter the lounge to watch some TV or chat with other patients Merlin left the room, mostly fleeing to his own and shutting himself in. Technically, Arthur could have just walked in, but he still didn’t entirely know what this was about and he didn’t like to make Merlin feel like he was being intruded upon. So Arthur spent a few days watching the back of Merlin’s head retreating.

He had just had one of the most exhausting sessions with Gaius. Gaius, of course, had noticed how he and Merlin hadn’t spent much time with each other over the past few days. Arthur had pretended to not know what was going on while at the same time trying to find out what he could from Gaius. He was sure that Gaius knew something, but getting information out of that man was like trying to suck a baby through a straw, whereas Gaius was someone who actually could manage to suck that baby through, insistently getting to the bottom of things. Arthur could feel his walls crumbling. He had felt so exhausted that he had to go lie down, feeling at least 30 years older than he actually was.

There was soft knock on the door. Arthur jumped up and ripped open the door, but instead of Merlin, there was Morgana. She pushed him aside and stepped into the room.

“Close the door.”

Arthur did as he was told. He sat down on the desk, legs dangling off the edge.

“I just forced Merlin to tell me why he is so fucking miserable and he told me, though very reluctantly and I basically clubbed him over the head with a book. He’s behaving like a cowardly idiot, because he’s scared that you may want to get as far away from us as soon as possible once you know. Granted, I like you too, and I have tried to deny how this was going to end anyway and tried to pretend like it could all be great. Because you’re a cool guy and seem like a great friend at least. I also thought that maybe, this time, things might work out?

I really can’t deny it. I’m sick of being lonely? Fuck yeah. Am I sick of seeing Merlin lonely? Again, fuck yeah. Am I sick of the fact that my best friend is my brother, and that he is only my best friend, because he’s the only friend I could ever keep, the only friend who ever accepted me for who I am and who didn’t run away screaming ‘freak’? Again, fuck yeah. I’m sick of it. Merlin is sick of it. This entire thing here is just another step on our ‘We’re fucking sick of everything’-ladder. I’m pretty sure, Merlin’s been toying with the thought to just bloody end it. And so have I, to be honest.”

Morgana was now pacing up and down the room.

“Wha-?”

“Wait. Let me finish. The only thing Merlin and I have to lose is each other, especially now that I’m about to tell you and you’re going to storm off to Merlin and demand to know whether it’s true. He’ll show you and then you’re going to back off, run away, repulsed, disgusted, frightened, whatever emotions run through people’s minds when they find out. Because that’s what they’ve always done. Our own father is scared or disgusted or both, we don’t know, we don’t care. Merlin shouldn’t have let you near him in the first place. I still don’t know what he was thinking. It’s this place, I suppose.” She kicked the wall, venting her anger as if it was the house’s fault that Merlin was trapped inside of it.

Arthur shook his head at her in confusion and hurt. “Morgana, you’re basically the only friends I’ve got. I’ve ever had. Why would I-?”

“Because we’re Merlin and Morgana.” She turned towards him, looking desperate and exasperated at the same time. “Our names fit us. Most people get a queasy feeling when they’re around us, because we’re not quite normal and they sort of have an inkling of our abnormality.”

“I still don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

“That’s ‘cause I actually hate to say the word, but to make it easy: we’re magic. I have no idea if we actually are the Merlin and the Morgana from the storybooks. You know, reborn. I don’t know; I don’t really care. But the fact is we can do stuff that others can’t.”

Arthur stared at her. He didn’t understand. Whatever this was, he didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand why they would push him away. He had never said he was scared of Merlin. He had never wanted -. Arthur sprang from the desk and closed in on Morgana, trying to make her see, but she just backed away. “Morgana! What are you talking about? I don’t get it. I like you, both of you. I don’t care what other people say. Trust me, I really don’t care. They’re idiots. You two are the two most amazing people I’ve ever met. I just-“

“Go to him,” said Morgana, tears running down her cheeks. “Go to him, ask him to show you, because I can’t, not like that.” She wiped away her tears angrily. “Ask him to show you, and then tell him you’re not scared of him, of us. Tell him that or fuck off and never talk to us again.”

“Show me what?”

Morgana grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him around and shoved him towards the door. “Go!”

He looked back at Morgana and had the feeling that she was going to sink to the ground, hug her knees and just cry once he was gone.

He went to Merlin’s room with his stomach twisted into knots.

“Mr Pendragon,” said Nurse Vivien, as he walked past the station office. She nearly upended the chair she was sitting on in her hurry to get up, because Arthur just walked past her without any reaction.

“Mr Pendragon!”

“Not now!”

“Mr Pendragon, Dr Jal would like to talk to you. He has asked me to inform you tha-“

“Fuck off. I said not now,” yelled Arthur over his shoulder.

He didn’t knock this time.

Merlin was lying on his bed, face down and he didn’t move when the door opened and closed.

“Show me then.” Maybe Arthur sounded a bit too aggressive, but he was sick of being treated as if he was stupid, as if he wouldn’t understand things. The fact that Merlin sighed and pushed himself to his knees heavily before getting up did nothing to improve Arthur’s mood.

“Go stand in front of the door,” Merlin said quietly.

“Why?”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we can’t lock the doors. And I don’t want anyone barging in on us.”

Merlin’s eyes were swollen and there was a dark shadows underneath them. Arthur felt a rush of guilt that he might have caused this, so he didn’t protest and moved to the door to lean against it.

“Hold the door knob.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Merlin! Don’t you think-“

“Arthur, you have no idea. So shut up and do it.”

Arthur’s hand enclosed the doorknob, turning it towards the doorframe, holding on tight. Merlin moved so that he stood facing Arthur and the door, slightly to the right of the small window. He breathed heavily and his left hand was shaking. He looked at Arthur’s confused face and nearly lost all courage at the thought that this dork of a man with his crooked teeth, adorable smile and ridiculous sense of sadistic humour would probably run away in a few seconds’ time. Merlin had to swallow to keep back the tears that were always so near the surface these days.

He took a step closer to Arthur and held out his hand, just as he had done for Gaius. A small flame sprang up in the midst of his palm and Arthur didn’t notice at first because he kept looking at Merlin’s face. There was a transition in the confusion on Arthur’s face when it mixed with astonishment and possibly fear, Merlin couldn’t quite tell. However, Arthur didn’t move, didn’t storm out of the room. His hand held on to the doorknob tightly and his eyes danced with the small tongues of fire flickering this and that way.

Merlin closed his hand, pulling Arthur out of his stupor. “Wha-? How..how..how did you-?” Arthur broke off his mumblings as the desk lifted itself of the ground and turned in the air, sending the paper flying around the room. The desk settled down again, but now the pieces of paper flew up from the floor and neatly stacked themselves on the right corner of the desk.

Merlin swallowed again. “For now they still think I’m schizophrenic, because from what I’ve gathered my father told them that I think I can do magic. Dr Jal is never going to let me out of here, because he doesn’t know the truth, I know that now. I was naive enough in the beginning to think that this was just temporary, but it’s not. Once they know – and if you don’t tell them they will find out anyway one day – they’re just going to lock me up somewhere even worse. Because being able to do this, this magic, is worse than thinking I can do it.” Merlin backed away and slid down the wall opposite Arthur.

“Merlin?”

“Just go. Go and tell them,” Merlin’s voice broke. He coughed, trying to catch his breath as his lungs seemed to fall in on themselves. “There’s no point anyway.”

Arthur’s teeth clashed together and he realized that he was freezing. He could see his breath coming from his mouth in small misty clouds. The colour of the walls was slowly changing into something lighter. Arthur wasn’t good with colours, he knew the basics – red, green, blue and all that -, but if he had to describe it he would have said ‘like fresh snow in the Siberian tundra’, a soft cleanness that felt safe and dangerous at the same time.

And then Arthur laughed. It only lasted about two seconds, because even Arthur wasn’t so blind as to realise that the colour of the walls, the freezing temperature wasn’t exactly expressing Merlin’s happiness and he clapped a hand over his mouth at the hurt look he got from Merlin.

“I’m sorry,” he said with an apologetic but amused look in his eyes. He let go of the door and walked over to Merlin, getting down on his knees in front of him. Merlin tried to move even closer to the wall and away from Arthur, but Arthur put his hands on Merlin’s knees, stopping him.

“Merlin, I thought – no, I don’t know what I thought – not this, that’s for sure.”

Merlin cringed and tried to push Arthur’s hands off his knees. “Don’t, just don’t. You’re cruel.”

“Merlin, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. When I said they were scared of you I thought you’d done something fucking insane, god I don’t know, maybe I thought you’d killed someone or – god I don’t know what I thought. I’m stupid and clueless and, and-“

Arthur dropped his head. “Can you stop it? I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“What?” Merlin wiped at his nose with his sleeve.

“I suppose it’s you who’s turning this room into a freezer.”

A new rush of tears fell down Merlin’s face. He tried to hide his head with his arms and the temperature in the room seemed to drop even further.

“Okay, Merlin, stop it, now you’re being stupid and ridiculous or whatever. That’s my job, seriously. Don’t even think about taking that away from me. We need someone who’s a bit more rational and mature and responsible.” It didn’t have the effect Arthur had hoped for, so he scooted even closer, pressing in on Merlin, and prized his hands away from his face, placing his own hand on either side of Merlin’s head. His fingers disappeared in the dark hair.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Why?”

“You’re amazing. You’re literally amazing. This,” he looked around the room, “is amazing. It’s weird, it’s shocking and yes, maybe a little frightening, like ‘cause I don’t know what to do with this, and maybe we’re both insane and really belong here, or maybe we’re not and should break out, like turn into small butterflies and fly out of the window, and I’m rambling and you know what? I’m gonna-“

The door opened and both Merlin and Arthur jumped, the room darkened and Arthur could feel a rush of heat.

“You’re still here?” asked Morgana, looking incredulous.

“Okay, like seriously, people really never do give me enough credit,” said Arthur, throwing his arms up into the air.

“Sorry, it’s just...Merlin, are you alright?” Morgana stood shyly by the door, trying to see her brother’s face past Arthur’s shoulders. It was weird to see her like that with that reserved concern. Arthur saw Merlin nodding out of the corner of his eye and Morgana breathed out shakily.

“Morgana, I love you and all, but after I just told your brother that he’s amazing I was actually just about to kiss him, and well, you’re kind of ruining it with your presence.” Merlin’s head shot up, eyes wide with shock and a glimmer of hope. Arthur looked at him, silently asking for permission. He felt two slender arms wrapping around him and a kiss being pressed into his hair. He was going to hug her properly later on, because she needed that as much as Merlin did. For now, all he wanted to do is what he should have done weeks ago already; whenever Merlin had made a sarcastic comment; whenever Merlin had smiled shyly because of something Arthur had said; whenever Merlin had said goodnight with a small wave and stood awkwardly by the door as if he was waiting for something to happen.

The door clicked shut and Arthur didn’t hesitate. His hand curled into the untidy hair and pulled Merlin towards him. It was a careful first touch, with the smallest amount of pressure, before Merlin breathed out the weight that had been on his shoulders and relaxed against Arthur. Arthur’s other hand flew up to Merlin’s neck and he increased the pressure, parting his lips slightly. He felt Merlin’s tongue flicking against his lips and reciprocated, licking ever so lightly along those full lips. Merlin moaned against him and Arthur’s tongue became increasingly eager, searching out Merlin’s. It was uncoordinated and a bit messy, so that Arthur had to start laughing as their tongues kept missing each other in their frantic search.

“What?” asked Merlin as Arthur pulled away, giggling.

“Sorry, weird image in my... whoa,” said Arthur looking at Merlin’s head. “There’s literally a butterfly sitting on your head. Like, a real one.” His eyes flicked to the closed window.

Merlin reached up and pressed the butterfly into his hair where it vanished into thin air as if nothing had happened. “It’s happened before. Please don’t freak out.”

“No, I...wow. Wow! Like wow! God, I’m sorry,” Arthur apologised, raking his hands through his hair. “This is just so freakishly weird and intensely cool at the same time. I’m kind of scared shitless that I’m going to say the wrong thing or react in the wrong way and...”

“Arthur, shut up.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “You’re a worse rambler than Morgana.”

“Hey, unusual situation here that my brain is incapable of dealing with without rambling.”

“Whatever,” said Merlin, punching Arthur in the shoulder, a move that only Arthur had made and which made him incredibly happy to see in this situation.

“Right, come here,” said Arthur as he got up off the floor, holding out his hand to Merlin. They sat down on the bed, facing each other with their legs crossed.

“Okay. Morgana?” Arthur called out. “You can come in now.”

They heard frantic scrambling behind the door as someone tried to get up, before it opened and revealed a blushing Morgana. She closed the door quietly and walked over to the bed, climbing first on top of Arthur before settling between him and her brother, with the wall at her back.

“Alright, okay, I don’t know, explain, and tell me everything. Enlighten this stupid human mind of mine. You’re not fairies, are you? ‘Cause they’re creepy.”

 

~


	4. Chapter 4

~~~

Arthur had taken to picking up Merlin from his room every morning to walk together to breakfast right from the start, because Merlin’s room was closer to the cafeteria. Nowadays, however, he did not just knock at the door and wait Merlin to come out. After knocking, he now snuck in, leaned against the door with a grin and waited for Merlin to kiss him. It was Arthur’s fee for allowing Merlin to be able to pass through the door.

“You’re a dork!” was Merlin’s answer every morning and it felt so wonderfully normal that it was easy to forget where they were and why they were there. The longer the kiss, the longer they could both pretend, but eventually one of the nurses – mostly Nurse Vivien as she had had a lot of morning shifts lately – rapped on the door sharply to call them to breakfast. They had a fixed period of time for breakfast because the pills were distributed to everybody afterwards and that time plan was not allowed to change under any circumstances.

Merlin was pretty sure that Nurse Vivien had caught on to what Arthur and Merlin’s relationship had become.

“You spend an awful lot of time in your room with Mr Pendragon, Mr Dewin,” she commented one day as he walked back from one of his sessions with Dr Jal. There had been a few times where she had just burst into one or the other of their rooms, pretending to have heard a weird noise or once that she had seen a rat running into the room underneath the door – which in this case had actually been true. They had been in Arthur’s room and Kilgharrah had been feeling a bit neglected those days – and Merlin was sure that Arthur and he hadn’t always been quick enough to pull apart for her to be able to see just two guys hanging out with each other.

It made Merlin ridiculously angry. This was the 21st century after all. There shouldn’t be a problem with homosexuality and for Arthur there wasn’t. Gaius encouraged their relationship full-heartedly. Unfortunately, Merlin was sure that it would make things worse if Dr Jal knew.

Surprisingly it was Gwen who supported him the most.

“I think Merlin is right. You should be careful. That man doesn’t sound like someone I’d want to cross and if he’s got something against homosexuality, then Merlin is crossing him for sure. Plus, it gives him ammunition to use against him. There are still institutions out there that see homosexuality as a disease and claim it can be cured with electroshock therapy. He’d probably love to send Merlin there.”

She had been able to visit more often now that most of the media had moved on to newer scandals or catastrophes. Arthur’s father still hadn’t visited, but it didn’t come as a surprise to Merlin since Arthur had made it quite clear on numerous occasions that he didn’t want his father to visit. Every time that happened Merlin and Morgana looked at each other knowingly, because it confirmed their suspicion that Gwen’s actual job was not involving PR but mediating between father and son. They didn’t envy her for that job.

Merlin had tried to use his newfound intimate persuasion skills to convince Arthur to give into Gwen and let her bring his father, but to no avail. Even post-orgasm, Arthur stuck to his principles. No visits from father.

Not that these post-orgasm moments were often or long lasting. Merlin had tried that persuasion-route only once, because moments that could be used for hand jobs in the semi-dark were rare and had to be over quick or else they risked being walked in on with their pants around their ankles. They would have a hard time explaining that away.

They didn’t dare to try and have actual sex, though Merlin knew he was more than ready for that physically and hormonally.

Only once were they able to have twenty minutes without interruption. Gaius seemed particularly happy about the new situation. He had come up to Merlin and Arthur at lunch two days after ‘the big revelation’ as Arthur liked to call it to tell them how glad he was to see the change in their relationship. Merlin had panicked at first that it was apparently obvious for everyone to see that he and Arthur were now sort of dating each other and it took Gaius and Arthur a while to help scatter his worries.

Merlin knew that Arthur talked about him during his sessions with Gaius and that Arthur had mentioned the frustration that came with having to sneak around for fear of being discovered and broken apart. So one afternoon, as they sat with Morgana and Gwen in the lounge, Gaius came up and shook hands with them all before leaning down to whisper into Arthur’s ear.

“Gaius says his office is free for about twenty minutes. And it can be locked from the inside.” Merlin shivered at Arthur’s whisper and the meaning behind those words. They had both been very frustrated lately and it was too good an opportunity to miss.

“Mr Pendragon, Mr Dewin, a word please!” said Gaius loud enough for others to hear. Both of them got up and followed Gaius with drooping shoulders, pretending to be in trouble. Morgana and Gwen watched them go away and shrugged.

They entered Gaius’ room where the curtains had already been drawn.

“The key is in the lock. I cannot give you more than twenty minutes, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Gaius. Twenty minutes is plenty of time. What are you going to do?” asked Merlin.

“Just a long visit to the men’s room. I’ll knock when it’s time to go.” He closed the door behind him and went off to the men’s room whistling. It did have its advantages that his office was located in one of the more deserted and hidden parts of the building.

Arthur grinned at Merlin. “Right, so here is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

He closed the space between them and captured Merlin’s lips rather forcefully, pushing his tongue past the half-open lips and running it along Merlin’s teeth. His hands immediately wandered to the waistband of Merlin’s trousers, a teasing finger running across the slim hips and underneath the material where the skin grew hot.

He broke the kiss, not wasting much time and dropped to his knees.

“Wha-?” Merlin gasped as Arthur pulled down his trousers and boxers in one go. He roughly pushed up Merlin’s shirt to expose his stomach and give himself more room. Merlin’s knees almost buckled and he had to step back to be able to lean against the door. Arthur followed him on his knees like an eager child and for Merlin it was one of the hottest things ever.

Arthur licked his lips before opening them ever so slightly and brushing them teasingly against the head. Merlin’s hips jerked forwards, surprised by the contact and searching out more.

“Ssh, don’t move too much,” whispered Arthur.

“Okay, sorry, sorry.”

Arthur slowly wrapped his fingers around the base of Merlin’s cock, stroking roughly to get him fully hard. Merlin had to concentrate hard not to jerk forward again. Arthur put a hand on his hip to hold him back. He flicked his tongue across the tip, once, twice.

“Oh god,” moaned Merlin, his hand landing in Arthur’s hair, urging him on. Usually Arthur liked to tease endlessly, making the other beg and moan, but they didn’t have time for that. Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin’s hip and swallowed him as deep as he could. Merlin’s head fell back against the door and for a few minutes, he forgot everything else.

 

Gwen and Morgana had gone to the cafeteria to try to score some coffee, since both expected that Merlin and Arthur would be gone some time talking to Gaius. They were now sitting at the table furthest away from the door, facing each other.

“Oh God, what?” asked Morgana incredulously.

“No, I’m serious. You can still see the marks on the ceiling where the firework rockets were stuck in the ceiling. One burnt a big hole into the couch. That was immediately replaced, of course. But Uther didn’t really have the energy to deal with the ceiling properly.”

Morgana shook her head in disbelief. “It’s a miracle Arthur didn’t get hurt.”

Gwen laughed at that. “I think he was the most surprised of us all. Obviously, he claimed that that had been his intent all along, kind of an art project. He always likes to call things his art project. I think he was furious that the stupid rockets just stayed stuck in the ceiling and didn’t do more damage throughout the entire living room, the house, or to himself. He’s always been kind of self-destructive.”

“How did he get to be 21 years old?”

Gwen shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I mean, I’ve been working for his father for three years now, and the things he’s done in last three years should have killed him 10 times already. And I think he was even worse as a pubescent teenager.”

Gwen sipped from her cup slowly before adding: “I also think that his father is very glad that Arthur is in here, under supervision and with the possibility of dealing with his issues.”

Morgana raised her right eyebrow. “And does he realise that Arthur’s issues are mostly with him?”

Gwen waved her off. “Oh yeah, he knows. Whenever he is furious at Arthur, he’s really just furious at himself. Same goes for Arthur, and in their individual fury they just manage to misunderstand each other.”

“I do not envy you. You’re like the babysitter for two grown men. That’s got to be depressing.”

“I get paid well,” said Gwen assuredly.

“How well is well? I mean it’s pretty much a 24/7 job, right? Can you even – oh god!” Morgana leaned back in her chair, clutching the table tightly and breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?”

Morgana nodded, but squirmed in her chair making it look like she was anything but comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine – oh my god. Shit, sorry, ignore me, this is – holy fuck.”

She lowered her head so that Gwen couldn’t see her face, but the squirming continued. Gwen wondered whether she should call a nurse, maybe Morgana had epilepsy or something else that made her lose control over her own body, because that’s what it looked like. She reached out to cover Morgana’s hand with her own in an attempt to calm her down in case it was some sort of attack. An almost violent shudder went through Morgana and the table shook so hard that the cups tipped over and poured their contents all over the table.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Morgana let go off the table and slumped down in her chair limply, her eyes closed.

Gwen stared at her with wide eyes. “Morgana?” she asked fearfully.

Morgana’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, she had forgotten about Gwen, but now she sat up, coughing loudly. “Well, yeah, don’t worry. That happens. It’s just never been this-“

“Bad?”

“Intense.” She definitely needed to ask Merlin for details later. Usually, she liked to ignore these moments, but this just was too ‘wow’ to ignore.

Morgana got up to get a few paper towels for the spilt coffee that was now dripping onto the floor. She was somewhat glad that Arthur apparently hadn’t told Gwen about their abilities yet or else Gwen might not have looked as confused and worried as she did. They cleaned up the table together, Gwen throwing worried glances at Morgana who tried to act as if nothing had happened.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine,” said Morgana with a sigh once the table had its usual yellowish tinge back. “Anyway, moving on, let’s talk about what the boys are doing while they’re gone. ‘Cause I’m starting to think that they are not actually having a deep conversation with Gaius but more like a deep “conversation” with each other.”

Gwen grinned. “You mean “conversation” conversation? Oh yeah, definitely. I know Arthur’s face when he gets horny and the moment Gaius whispered into his ear pointing at Merlin, Arthur went from comfortably composed to horny as hell. I think it’s cute of Gaius to give them some alone-time.”

“I’m pretty sure Merlin is very, very grateful,” said a blushing Morgana, before both dissolved into laughter.

 

10 minutes later, Gaius knocked on the door and a very composed-looking Arthur stepped out, grinning stupidly.

“Hang on,” said Gaius, as Merlin stepped through the door with flushed cheeks. He slipped past Merlin and searched in his desk for a while, before pulling out a battered book.

“In case someone asks why I asked you to come with me, I simply gave you this to read. I know how frustrating those romance novels can be.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” said Arthur, taking the book from him and reading the title. _Mrs Dalloway._ “Good book for a lunatic.”

“Are you alright, Merlin?” asked Gaius, seeing that Merlin continued to look at the floor instead of being interested in the book.

“He’s fine.” Arthur’s grin widened. “He’s just worried about what Morgana is going to think. See you later.”

Merlin blushed even more furiously and practically ran after Arthur without looking back.

 

~

 

The high from those twenty minutes in Gaius’ office carried Merlin through the next couple of days. He shrugged off the nurses as they intruded on the privacy of his room without so much as an angry thought. He managed to lure Dr Jal into talking about his favourite books which kept them occupied for 47 minutes of his one-hour Wednesday sessions. Kilgharrah had seemed happier anyway ever since Merlin and Arthur got together, but after that day, he even got more daring in his ventures to the outside world that was the rest of the clinic.

Morgana said she felt much better and was even rather nice to their grandmother doing laundry and dishes for her who only repaid her with nasty comments about Merlin, possibly trying to make Morgana look better in comparison, but Morgana managed to just ignore them and carry on with the laundry.

And even when Arthur mock-kissed him in the middle of the hallway in imitation of Gwen’s double kiss on the cheeks as they said goodbye in the evening and Nurse Vivien tutted in the background, Merlin had a hard time pretending to care.

His lack of reaction, however, backfired the next day.

 

“Merlin? Would you be willing to talk to me?”

Gaius was respectfully standing outside Merlin’s room, speaking through the door. He heard a muffled ‘come in’, but as he pushed against the door, it didn’t give. He heard the bed springs go and let go of the door. It was closed and, after a few seconds of rummaging and scraping, fully opened.

“Sorry, about that.” Merlin nodded towards the chair that Gaius suspected had been wedged under the doorknob. “That’s a serious security flaw. I could starve myself to death in here.”

“Well, this used to be a private hospital. They just kept the doors the way they were,” explained Gaius. “And you couldn’t starve yourself to death in here. See that space between the door and frame at the top and bottom? The security men and nurses are very practiced at unhinging these doors in the matter of a few seconds. If you had a gun, it would give you enough time to shoot yourself, but you wouldn’t. I hope killing yourself is not really an option you would take in here.” Gaius stood by the window with his hands clasped behind his back, looking down on Merlin who sat on the bed, kneading his hands.

“No one’s ever tried?”

“Certainly not in their room. A fair few have tried to break into the nurse’s station to acquire a high dose of sedatives. Even if they do manage to swallow a dangerous amount, they’re quickly rushed off to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped out.”

Merlin put his head in his hands, breathing out heavily.

“Why do I have the feeling that I’ve just destroyed a lot of hope?” asked Gaius with concern. Merlin laughed roughly.

“You kind of have.”

“Excuse me Merlin, if I’m prying, but I would have thought that things were better now. Now that you and Arthur are, well, even closer than before.”

Merlin shook his head. “It was stupid. Stupid, naive, ridiculous. I shouldn’t have started this, I shouldn’t have let him kiss me, I shouldn’t have... fuck, fuck, fuck! I mean, who am I kidding? I’m basically dragging him down with me. The only thing that gives me comfort is the knowledge that he’s got you as his psychiatrist. You’re sane and rational and understanding. Dr Jal is neither of those things.”

“What happened?”

 

 _“How long have you had these homosexual tendencies?”_

 _Merlin nearly fell of his chair. Shocked and speechless, he gaped at Dr Jal, who was standing at the window, looking out over the green._

 _“What?”_

 _“I’m quite aware as to the nature of the relationship between you and Mr Pendragon. The question is whether that relationship could only develop due to, let’s say, constricted circumstances or if it is a general condition of your character?”_

 _“Condition?”_

 _“It is very treatable, Mr Dewin. Many men before you have gone back to a normal lifestyle.” Dr Jal turned around and looked at Merlin with the most understanding and sympathetic expression Merlin had ever seen on him. At the same time, a wave of disgust and intense dislike hit Merlin right in the face._

 _“It’s not a condition and you’re not sending me off to get electroshock treatment,” hissed Merlin, standing up from his chair and taking two fast steps towards Dr Jal. He realised a little too late that he was behaving exactly as he was being treated in that moment – like a child. Like a child throwing a tantrum because, it didn’t want to go to bed yet. Except that, his tantrum could be seen as menacing._

 _Dr Jal ignored Merlin’s comment and went to his desk, pulling Merlin’s file to him and opening it._

 _“I’m going to double your dose, Mr Dewin. Your father has asked me to and I quite agree with him. I’m also going to speak with a specialist who can-”_

 _“My father! You talked to him? When? Why?”_

 _Dr Jal calmly finished writing and screwed the cap back on the pen before answering Merlin. “Mr Dewin, I have been in contact with your father right from the beginning as he was very interested in knowing how your therapy is progressing. Not to mention that, since you have always been quite reluctant to reveal necessary information, I have had to rely on your father’s information.”_

 _Merlin didn’t know what to say anymore. He didn’t even want to know what kind of information his father had given Dr Jal. He just wanted to get out of there._

 _Dr Jal folded his arms across his chest and leaned back with a deep sigh._

 _“I hope you understand that your father and I only have the best intentions and considering the seriousness of your situation and the new findings which you have just confirmed there’s pretty much no other option other than intensifying your therapy. That involves an increase in your medication and a possible disciplinary approach to your therapy.”_

 _“I haven’t confirmed anything,” said Merlin stubbornly. His heart and head were racing. Disciplinary? What the fuck did he mean by disciplinary?_

 _“Your reaction confirmed my strong suspicions perfectly, Mr Dewin.”  
_

 

Gaius had his arms crossed over his chest, much just like Dr Jal had only hours before. Gaius’ gesture was one of anger, however, and Merlin almost felt guilty for causing that anger.

“I feel like I can’t do anything right, like I’m not allowed to. I’ve never done anything bad, but still I’m in here. On top of that, the one time I find something good, it’s used against me. Arthur will probably end up suffering because of it as well, I don’t know. I should have just stayed on my own, never talked to him.”

“Merlin!” Merlin flinched at Gaius’ tone. “Sometimes the children are actually to be blamed, but in most cases they are not. In your case, you are not. Because you did not hurt anybody. Because in my eyes you are a healthy young man, who might be slightly extraordinary, but that shouldn’t be a bad thing. Your father is a person who seems to be entirely unable to process the simple concept of acceptance.”

“Unless it’s Morgana, apparently,” said Merlin before he could stop himself. “God, shit, no, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t tell her I said that.”

Gaius smiled. “The most revealing things we say are those that we didn’t mean to say. Merlin, remember, though you might be twins, you cannot be compared. A lot of people unfortunately still have greater problems with homosexual men than they do with homosexual women, especially other men. Neither is it fair on men nor on women. Society has advanced far in the past few years, but we’re still not where we should be concerning that. It’s obvious now that your father doesn’t approve and you don’t know for how long he has known. Then there’s your ability, which is so much more visible than Morgana’s and would probably unanimously be considered as the more dangerous one. Ultimately, it is not surprising that you are in here and Morgana isn’t. That doesn’t mean your father accepts her more than you.”

“You are just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I firmly believe that.”

“No, you don’t. You know very well that’s not true. It’s like he knows that she originally wanted to stay with him when we were six, because she didn’t understand what was going on. Or maybe he thinks it is not too late for her, but I’m already too far gone, so locking me up was the most sensible thing he could do.”

Gaius shook his head with a sort of defiance that didn’t suit him. “I don’t like the way you’re talking.”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds like you’re defending him, like it is okay that he’s messing with your life like this, asking your psychiatrist to double your dose. He’s slowly taking control away from you and it’s like you’re now willing to let him.”

Merlin shrugged, as if he had been defeated already.

“Well, what’s the fucking point? My mother ran away with us, but she dies and we end up back with him and everything turns out the way Morgana said it would. I talked to Arthur because I thought it might help me to get out of here when I looked like I was willing to integrate. That backfired, because Dr Jal disliked that as well. I try to hide the relationship with Arthur that I should never have started, but it’s discovered anyway. No, not even discovered, they fucking knew anyway. I could have had sex with him on the roof of the Parliament building the day we met and Dr Jal and my father would still have already known about it.

It’s all pointless. I should have nipped any kind of hope I ever had of getting out of here in the bud right from the start. I mean what did you say? Paranoia, schizophrenia, the belief that I can do magic; plus homosexual tendencies. What would that stand for? Personality disorder first degree or whatever. That doesn’t sound like they’ll let me out any time soon. Maybe with you as my doctor, but not with him. Not when my father is messing around in the background unbeknownst to me. Who knows what else he told him?” Merlin had gotten up and started pacing around the room, stomping at the ground, kicking his bed or desk when he could. Anything to release his anger. He didn’t even notice the cracks that appeared on the walls or across his desk and grew larger with every violent motion, but Gaius did and he grew worried.

“Merlin, you have to calm down. This rage is only making things worse. Technically, I should have called someone already to hold you down and sedate you, because the way you’re behaving right now, it looks like you’re about to attack someone.” Gaius tried to be strict but also as understanding as he could possibly be.

Merlin stopped in his tracks. His eyes were unfocused for a second before they narrowed at the sight of the cracks in the wall. It broke Gaius’ heart to see Merlin’s expression change from surprise to disgust at himself and his ability. He had gone from rage to vulnerability and self-hatred within seconds and was now crawling onto the bed, pulling his legs up and hugging himself.

“Please go,” said Merlin in a broken whisper.

“Merlin, I-“

“Just... what did he mean by disciplinary approach? Dr Jal, what did he mean by disciplinary?”

Gaius sighed, trying to find an explanation that would set Merlin on edge, but the fact was Gaius had built his entire career on his capability on building up trust by telling the truth. He had always been a bad liar, never quick-witted enough. “It’s out-dated. A controversial approach to curing soldiers from the Great War so as to send them back to the Front as quickly as possible.”

“Electro shocks?”

Gaius hesitated. “Well, yes, that was part of it, but positive, long-lasting effects have never been proven. It has given way to psychoanalysis and more advanced and less painful approaches. Dr Jal wouldn’t dare use it on you, not here. He’s just trying to shake you up a bit.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. “Please go now.”

“Don’t let him. Shake you up, I mean it.”

“Just go.”

Merlin turned his head away, shutting Gaius out completely, who had no choice but to give Merlin what he wanted.

 

~

 

Arthur hammered against Merlin’s door. It sounded urgent, but Merlin also knew it was Arthur and Merlin didn’t want to deal with him or anything at that moment. He tried to ignore it. In any other place, anywhere else in the world, it might have worked, because he could have pretended that he wasn’t at home, that the flat that Arthur was demanding access to was actually empty and he was at work or shopping or at the cinema or lying on a beach in the afternoon sun. Then Arthur would have gone away and Merlin could have had his peace. Here though there weren’t many options left to Merlin. Arthur knew his therapy schedule, so he knew that Merlin wasn’t with Dr Jal. Arthur had probably checked the lounge for any sign of Merlin first, so this was pretty much the last place he could look and Arthur assumed correctly that Merlin was indeed in his room, which is why he simply opened the door after about two minutes of continuous knocking.

“Merlin, what the fuck? What’s wrong with you?” Arthur crouched in front of Merlin who still sat on the bed in the exact same position Gaius had left him in. Merlin looked passed him with blank eyes. “Shit, did you take the pills?”

Arthur sounded worried and looked harried. He grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and shook him gently. “Merlin?”

“Stop it!”

Arthur breathed out with relief. “Okay, seriously? Don’t do that. Come on, I just heard that Gaius was fired. We’ve got to see him.” He grabbed Merlin by the hand and pulled, but Merlin didn’t move.

“What?”

“He’s just been fired. Come on.”

“No.”

“What?”

“He can’t have been,” whispered Merlin, looking shocked. “No.”

Arthur let go off his hand. Panic, worry and anger were battling on Arthur’s face. He didn’t quite know how to react to this kind of numb and helpless version of Merlin.

“It’s my fault.”

“No, Merlin it’s not. That’s ridiculous.” Though Arthur wasn’t sure if that thought really was as ridiculous as he had just made it out to be and his uncertainty was noticeable in his tone. Merlin threw him an angry look, slid off the bed and pushed past Arthur without touching him, without looking back. Merlin was already halfway down the hall before Arthur remembered to use his legs and follow.

Merlin found Gaius in the cafeteria, where he sat talking to another Doctor that Merlin didn’t know. As Gaius saw the two of them entering, he excused himself and walked up to them, motioning for them to sit down at the table near the entrance. Merlin declined with a shake of the head.

“You’ve really been fired.” It wasn’t a question; therefore Gaius didn’t feel the need to answer.

“But, why?” asked Arthur, looking slightly forlorn as he stood by the double-winged door, his hand on the frame as if he needed something to hold on to.

“I’m unfit for work, too old, too conservative. Something along those lines will be written down somewhere. That I should go into retirement and enjoy the remainder of my years in peace and quiet and let the younger people take over.”

“But why now? I mean, you still have patients, me included. What the fuck?”

Gaius turned around, but he didn’t look at Arthur. Instead, he gave Merlin an affectionate smile. “Don’t blame yourself, because I know you are. Yes, I meddled. Yes, I went to Dr Jal and tried to talk to him about you, tried to talk to him properly this time, and yes, it is what got me fired today. I’m genuinely sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I’m genuinely sorry I can’t help you, but I’m not sorry that I got fired today. It’s about time anyway. I’m over 70.”

Merlin nodded. “Thank you.”

Gaius waved him off. “Arthur, I have been allowed to carry out a closing session with my patients today and tomorrow, so we will see each other one more time tomorrow morning. After that, Dr Rivers will take care of you. I know that this isn’t ideal for you and it might set your release back a few weeks, but I hope you, of all people, understand where I was coming from in trying to help Merlin.”

Arthur nodded numbly, as if he was simply imitating Merlin.

“Now, if you will excuse me, this old man still has to deal with a few things,” said Gaius pointing at the other Doctor and the mountains of paperwork spread all over the table. “I will see you tomorrow morning at 9, Arthur. I’ll come and say goodbye properly tomorrow.”

Gaius shooed them away, not accepting another word from either, though Arthur left a bit reluctantly. Once Gaius had closed the door behind them, he leaned against it and breathed out shakily. He felt unsure about what he was going to do the next day, but it had to be done and he would much rather be the person to do it.

On the other side of the door, Merlin and Arthur stood facing each other, both with their hands hanging limply at their sides.

“I feel like I’ve missed something. Something important that Gwen would hit me over the head for because I didn’t realize it on my own,” said Arthur. He searched Merlin’s face for any answers, but Merlin simply shrugged and turned to go.

Again, Merlin was halfway down the hall before Arthur moved from his spot. He raced after him and caught him just before they turned the corner out into the main hallway.

“What’s wrong? You’re treating me like a bloody idiot, or like I did something to offend you. If I did, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Merlin sighed deeply. “You didn’t. Nothing’s your fault.”

“But you won’t explain to me what’s going on.”

There was no answer.

“Well, fuck you too. Is it nice playing games with me? I’ve heard walking all over me is a lot of fun.”

“Arthur –“

 

“What?” It was sharp and full of anger and Merlin turned momentarily numb with the violence of that one word. He pulled his shirtsleeves down over his wrists, covering his hands almost completely. Arthur noticed and knew it was a sign that Merlin was extremely uncomfortable, but this time he didn’t back down.

“I..I’m sorry. I can’t deal with this right now. When Gaius is gone. Please?” Merlin didn’t wait for an answer, leaving Arthur behind again as he walked to his room where he lay down on his bed and wished for Morgana to show up. She didn’t and not for the first time Merlin wished he had enough power to turn himself into a bird or an insect and just fly out of this shithole and disappear with his sister. Not for the first time he questioned what good his abilities were if he couldn’t even just fly away.

 

~


	5. Chapter 5

~~~

The morning was grey, cold, and the grass outside a frosty white. The sun was blocked by drooping clouds and it looked like the sort of day that was going to drown itself in a continuous drizzle. Breakfast had seemed even more depressing than usual.

Merlin stood by the urinals, the thin yellowish jet hitting the porcelain with high tempo, crashing and falling against it, when he heard the screams. It was a high wail, a sound he was already used to since Marcus the mad neurotic, who had been brought in a week ago, had an attack of that sort every other hour. Because his favourite TV show wasn’t on at the time he was used to, because the pillbox fell to the floor, because Nurse Vivien hadn’t buttoned her coat correctly, because there were 32 peas instead of 33 on his plate. Merlin had stopped being alarmed a long time ago. He flushed and pulled up the grey hospital trousers, washed his hands. He always wondered whether washing his hands really had an effect since the soap looked more disgusting than a pile of cat vomit mixed with molten gummy bears. Smelt like it too, he thought.

 _“Do I want to know why you know what a pile of cat vomit mixed with molten gummy bears smells like?” Arthur had asked when he had once formulated this theory into actual words._

 _Merlin had looked him square in the eye and said: “It was a dare.”_

 _“Did you get what you dared for?”_

 _“I’ll leave that to your excellent judgement of my character, Arthur.”_

Merlin pushed open the door. The screaming had changed without him noticing it. It wasn’t the long-drawn wail of misery escaping Martin’s misshapen mouth anymore; it was an angry booming sound echoing around the walls of the ward like thunder looking for a way out.

“...always about you, you selfish, ignorant, snobbish fucktard of a father.”

“Arthur, let’s go back inside.” Gaius was trying to be the calming force in a wild sea of raging patients. Merlin turned the corner just as the tired-looking man was trying to guide Arthur back into his office by the elbow. Arthur shook him off angrily.

“No.” Arthur saw Merlin coming towards them and Merlin thought it stopped him from hitting either Gaius or his father because his fists became rigid at his side. It didn’t stop him from screaming out his rage.

“Arthur, don’t do that. What will it look like? Arthur, behave yourself, I need this contract; Arthur, look sharp, I need you to understand this; Arthur, I want you to do this for me; Arthur, I; Arthur, I; Arthur, I. Well, Arthur here fucking doesn’t give a shit about what you want. This isn’t a fucking adolescent phase I haven’t grown out of yet, this isn’t a rebellion that will go away. I’ve hated your guts ever since I was five. I’ve never wanted nor will I ever want to take over your stupid company. I hate your life, I hate my life, I hate what you do, I hate what you make me do, I hate the way you look at me whenever I do something you don’t like. I love the way you look at me whenever I do something you don’t like, because it fucking fuels me, because it makes me come up with more shit that will drain you. I will keep doing it until you fucking despair and then I will stomp all over you and your retard company, burn it to the fucking ground and do whatever the fuck I like. We’ll both be losers, but I’ll at least know that I escaped your loser way of life and created my own. Because you know, father, you taught me so well to care about only one fucking thing in my life. MYFUCKINGSELF!”

Marcus’ wailing rose in volume. Arthur spun around and screamed at him, screamed him to the ground where he lay whimpering. For one moment, it seemed, Arthur looked sorry, but so many scared eyes were on him that the rage surged back immediately. He threw over a chair on his way to his room, banging the door to it so forcefully that it nearly sprang out of its frame.

Merlin sidestepped Uther and Marcus and tapped Gaius on the shoulder. No words were required, Gaius just nodded and sighed and then tried to give a grateful smile, perhaps hopeful that at least things between Merlin and Arthur could be alright again. Merlin didn’t smile back. Arthur was beginning to rub off. “ _Why do I have to be nice to people who’d shit all over me the first chance they get? And then de facto, why do I have to be nice at all, when it doesn’t feel right?”_ he had said once, and Merlin understood too well what he meant.

Smiling didn’t feel right. Merlin was surprised that Gaius thought it might, or maybe not surprised; it was something Merlin disliked doing. It just felt wrong.

He didn’t turn around, although he felt Uther’s eyes on his back, presumably wondering what this new fancy boy his son dragged into his sphere could do except give Arthur a blowjob to release the stress. Merlin didn’t even know the man, not really, but he couldn’t help but hate him in this moment, almost as viciously as he hated his own father.

He was as polite as Arthur had always been and knocked on the door. It was yanked open and Merlin felt a rough hand gripping his lower arm hard and pulling him in. The door shut with another loud bang and another wobble in the frame and then quivered with the weight of two men being pressed against it.

A leg was painfully shoved between his own and Merlin groaned at the sensation that shot up his body. Arthur’s lips were on his neck before he could even breathe out. Arthur’s right hand immediately wandered under Merlin’s shirt and up his chest, brushing over his nipples. Arthur started rutting against him in a quick rhythm, fucking all romantic notions he might have ever had.

“Arthur!”

Arthur pulled back and Merlin nearly sighed with relief; until he realised that Arthur was simply stepping back to rid himself of his shirt and trousers, taking them off within a few seconds. He pulled down Merlin’s trousers, producing a tearing sound Merlin didn’t like. It wasn’t like these trousers fit perfectly to begin with. Arthur didn’t bother with Merlin’s shirt, just pushed it up to his shoulders and bit down on his collarbone. He aligned their cocks and jerked at them roughly.

Merlin didn’t want to moan. This felt wrong - so completely surreal - he didn’t want to enjoy it. His cock thought otherwise.

“Come on, Merlin.” Arthur groaned into Merlin’s slack mouth and it fell somewhere between hot, uncomfortable, and embarrassing. They both came too quickly; fast, sharp orgasms, shooting off into each other’s pubic hair.

Arthur didn’t immediately pull away after coming down from his short and awkward high. Merlin had to push him away, angrily pulling up his pants again.

“What the fuck, Arthur?” His voice broke in his anger.

Arthur turned his back on Merlin, not caring about the fact that he was still naked. A few little drops of sweat were leaving his messy hair and crawling down the vast expanse of his back. They were forced onto a new path when Arthur folded his arms across his chest and thus moved the muscles underneath his skin.

“You obviously enjoyed it Merlin, so don’t complain.”

Merlin could feel the explosion of anger inside him. It left his eyes and hit Arthur on the back, leaving an angry burning mark on his left shoulder. Arthur’s hand shot up to protect his shoulder post-action.

“Aah, fuck!”

He spun around, a mixture of pain, anger and fear in his eyes.

“What the fuck?” He grabbed the nearby book, _Mrs Dalloway_ , and threw it at Merlin who stepped aside just in time, protecting his head with his arms. “Fuck you. Any normal person would have fucking slapped me.”

Arthur knew he had said something unforgivable even before the walls turned the deepest shade of black he had ever seen. Even the light from the window could not penetrate the darkness that surrounded them. Then the walls became startlingly white before Merlin ripped open the door and ran out.

Arthur stayed put, only his ears following the pounding footsteps leading away from him. The walls were slowly darkening to their usual grey. The sound of footsteps changed and Arthur realized that those were Gaius’. He slammed the door shut; now acutely aware of his nakedness and the drying cum on him. The grey came back completely at the door’s contact with the frame, except for a small corner under the bed, which remained white.

 

~

 

The bed was pushed away from its corner so that it not only blocked the door but also offered a space behind it. Merlin had crawled into the space between the walls, bed and desk. He had blackened the windows and destroyed all the lamps in a surge of rage. The broken glass of the light bulbs had dissolved into tiny particles that were floating around the room now. Merlin could see them as they mixed with the charged air and unnatural darkness. They were red, but Merlin wasn’t entirely sure whether it wasn’t just his own imagination, projecting his own feelings onto his environment. Who the fuck could see glass particles in the air anyway? This wasn’t real, it was him being a freak, a fucking freak who didn’t belong in this world, should have killed himself the first time he thought about it. It would have been better for this world. He didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong here, he didn’t...

 

~

 

The scream reverberated throughout the building. Marcus’ wailing increased again. Oswald, one of the male nurses from another ward, threw up his arms in defeat, trying to keep himself under control so as not to scare off the other patients as well by throwing about chairs and such. Vivien jerked her head in the direction of Merlin’s room and Oswald obliged, seeing how Vivien was trying to hide her fear and disgust of Merlin. Oswald had always felt that Vivien was a bit too judgmental when it came to patients, however he couldn’t help but agree with her on this one and did not like going near this particular patient; especially when he was making those kinds of sounds.

Oswald passed Gaius who was standing in front of Arthur Pendragon’s door, not knowing where to go first: To the nutter who had just spent the last few minutes raging against his own father or to the nutter who was currently raging against who knew what. As he saw Oswald approaching, he made up his mind, and motioned him over with his hand.

“I should be taking care of Mr Dewin.”

Oswald wasn’t going to argue.

“Make sure all the patients calm down and send them to their respective rooms. They should all be left to rest and not be excited any further today.”

“I can only do that if he stops.” Oswald nodded towards Merlin’s room. The scream broke up once in a while, the voice sounding rougher and rougher, but it did not stop entirely, nor did it lose any of its intensity. It was as if all the pent-up aggression, confusion, pain and self-hatred was breaking out of a glass box with the power of three nuclear bombs.

“Don’t worry. I will take care of that.” He thrust his white coat and his clipboard into Oswald’s folded arms, resulting in Oswald having to pick up both from the floor while he watched Gaius stride purposefully and in civilian clothes towards Merlin’s room.

Gaius wondered what could have happened that something like this animalistic, desperate, injured sound did not cause Arthur Pendragon to come running. From what he had seen, Arthur’s and Merlin’s relationship was strongly based on a feeling of needing to protect the other from any and all harm that could come from the outside world and a feeling of needing to support each other.

If Arthur had caused this reaction, Gaius really didn’t know what he could do to make Merlin feel better, to make him stop. He hadn’t been very successful the past few days when it came to Merlin. Discovering the different pieces to this boy’s history and thoughts had been difficult enough and Dr Jal certainly hadn’t helped, but putting together the broken pieces of his heart and soul – Gaius faltered in his step. What the hell did he know? What the hell could someone like him do? Merlin was extraordinary. He needed extraordinariness. Gaius had never felt so inadequate.

 

~

 

Arthur was sitting with his back to the door, feet pushed into the ground. Gaius had been standing in front of his door, trying to open it, all the time urging him on to talk things out with his father, with himself. Then the scream had started and Arthur didn’t know whether he wanted to put his hands over his ears, run to Merlin or destroy everything within his path because he felt angry at himself. He did neither.

Instinctively he knew that covering his ears was pointless. This voiced pain was meant for him, he would hear it – whether he wanted to or not.

The last time he had felt this guilty was when he had been four and had smashed one of the big glass windows with his football and his father had been angry and disappointed. After that, Arthur had realised that it didn’t matter what he did, his father was always going to be angry and disappointed and Arthur had stopped caring.

Gwen had been right.

 

 _It had been a disastrous evening and Arthur felt quite pleased with himself. His father had expressly stated that he wished Arthur to be there and that it would have grave consequences if he failed to show up._

 _Arthur had complied; his father had only failed to specify his wishes. There had never been any mention concerning the ‘how’ involving Arthur’s appearance and Arthur had outdone himself this time. Tomorrow’s newspapers wouldn’t be able to decide whether they should denote Arthur Pendragon as a punk, a homosexual or as downright dangerous. Probably all three. It was rather glorious. Arthur imagined the newspaper editors calling each other, discussing which newspaper was doing which headline and using which photo. The one of him kissing Matt, the cute British school boy who he had picked up off the street after his visit to the tattoo shop and dragged around on a dog collar all evening, was definitely top of the list._

 _Gwen came in, two beers in hand. She was projecting an air of amusement and utter hate for being made to do deal with this publicity disaster, spilling a bit of the beer as she handed it to Arthur by pushing it against his chest._

 _“I fucking hate you!” she stated, but a smile was creeping onto her face. “That’s the most extravagant and yet totally painless thing you’ve done so far. Well, painless apart from the tattoo.” She looked at the dragon skeleton on the side of his neck. “It is real, right?”_

 _“Of course.”_

 _She refrained from touching it, but Arthur knew she wanted to. “You couldn’t have picked a less painful spot?”_

 _“I could have, but apart from my forehead that’s the most visible spot.” Since the rest of his body was covered in black and red leather and linen, with chains and studs all over, Gwen could see the point. “Besides, I felt daddy had a right to know that I have a tattoo now.”_

 _“You’re the worst son ever.”_

 _Arthur laughed. “And don’t I just excel at the position?”_

 _Gwen rolled her eyes and sipped her beer. They fell into silence, staring out of the window at the calm peace that lay out there in the perfect garden his father paid a fortune to be kept properly. The huge rosebushes of white Winchester Cathedral roses and dark pink Falstaff roses swayed in the wind, leaning towards and away from the house in rhythmic intervals. The roses – the garden, actually – were one of the few things he liked about this house, but it wasn’t enough to want to stay here. As soon as he turned 18, he was out of here, no matter how often his father threatened to not give him any money if he left. It was an empty threat anyway._

 _“I think you need to be careful,” said Gwen after a while. Arthur looked at her, but Gwen did not remove her eyes from the roses._

 _“Yes, Gwen, I know you love my father.”_

 _Gwen scoffed at him. “I’m not defending him. I only like your father, because he pays me extremely well - justifiably.” She raised her eyebrows at Arthur. Then her face fell again. “I mean you, I - you need to be careful. You –“ She hesitated, looked out at the roses again. Arthur almost felt as if she was trying to listen to what the roses were whispering to each other. After a minute, he put down his beer and stepped between Gwen and the glass, blocking her view, forcing her to formulate her thoughts._

 _“What?”_

 _Gwen shook her head, but answered anyway. “I think that if you’re not – careful – if you’re not careful, you won’t know when to stop.”_

 _“Stop what?” Arthur leaned against the glass, folding his arms and looking at Gwen with a curious expression; curious and amused - an expression that frustrated Gwen._

 _“You won’t know when to stop and actually be nice to people. You’ll keep doing things to annoy them. You’ll just keep pushing away all the people that matter.” It took a second to register with Arthur what she was talking about. In that second, his face went from realisation to panic to hurt to mischievous amusement._

 _“You’re still here,” Arthur said matter-of-factly._

 _“Oh, Arthur.” Gwen shook her head. She placed a hand on his cheek, soft and warm and gentle with just a little bit of pressure, leaving it there. “I don’t matter.” She took away her hand and replaced it with a kiss. She turned around with a sad look in her eyes. The click-clack of her heels was all that Arthur was left with._

 

He should congratulate her on her impressive judgement of his future. Then again, she’d always been a good judge of character, had to be to blackmail all sorts of journalists into printing false stories or refraining from printing true ones. Arthur had said it more than once that Gwen really deserved at least half of his father’s fortune - if not all – for all the things she did for him.

For what she would do, if she saw Arthur now.

Regrettably, she wasn’t here to lay her hand on his head and pull him against her, to hug him tightly.

Arthur had to hug himself, sliding down the door so that he lay on the ground in a foetal position. He wished Gaius would come back, but felt it only fair that he didn’t.  
He didn’t deserve to be comforted.

 

~

 

Gaius hurt his foot as he pressed down the door handle and the door didn’t open as far as he had expected it to. The rattle of the door against the bed stopped the scream. Gaius could hear sobbing from the corner to his right, but what shocked him was the black creeping along the outside of the door and onto the walls of the hallway as if it was death itself eating away at the foundation of the building.

“Merlin, I need you to stop.” Gaius couldn’t hide his fear. He had seen Merlin making objects float around the room, he had seen him putting cracks into walls and furniture, he had seen him producing fire in his hands, but this – it was a power that scared him, because it meant irrational, emotional, uncalculated outbursts and a fear of the unknown was the most basic fear in a human mind. A fear Merlin must have as well.

“Merlin, please.” He knew he was begging. He also knew that it wasn’t working. A shrill scream from behind him surprised him and had he not had his eyes on the darkness creeping along the walls he would not have seen it flash red for the matter of a second in reaction to that scream.

Gaius shut the door quickly and turned towards Vivien. “Nurse! Call Morgana Dewin, please, and ask her to come here as fast as she can.”

Vivien was standing in the middle of the hallway, as rigid as a stone, staring at the black walls. Gaius couldn’t help but look again himself. It wasn’t even a normal black. It didn’t look like someone had been experimental with paint. It looked as if all Gaius had to do was reach out and his hand would go through the wall into nothingness. No, not nothingness. Gaius involuntarily shook his head. It wasn’t nothingness, it was more aggressive than that. Gaius did not dare to reach out. He focused on what he knew.

“Vivien! His sister, now!”

She had gotten the message now and turned pale, as if she wasn’t too happy about bringing a second of these people into the building. However, she did as she was told and turned towards the nurse’s office to dial the number.

When Gaius turned around again, the wall had turned completely black, but there was something else as well. From under the door, water was slowly flowing out onto the green floor. Gaius leaned down, dipped his finger into it and tasted it. It had been a while since he tasted tears, but the distinctive salty taste of tears was evident in Gaius’ mouth. This could not be Merlin’s real tears, not even Merlin would have been able to cry so much in such a short space of time, but there was no doubt, what these tears represented.

Gaius sank to the floor like a child; incapable of remaining upright at the prospect of so much pain. He’d suspected an unusual amount from the moment he saw Merlin’s eyes up close, but this was so much more than he had ever encountered before.

 

~

 

That’s how Morgana found him. All Gaius thought when he saw her was: ‘Thank God, they’re connected.’ He would later admit that in that moment he feared gravely for Merlin; feared that the phone call might reach Morgana too late; feared that Morgana wouldn’t realise on her own what was going on.

She helped him up; pulled him up as if he weighed no more than a fly. “What happened?” Her eyes were intensely green, as if they wanted to project to the outside world how focused their owner was.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think - I think - Arthur might have said or done something.”

“Wha... what? Arthur?” Morgana’s grip on Gaius’ arm tightened. She breathed in loudly through her nose and then released him. As she turned and opened the door to Merlin’s room, the bed was pushed away from the door with a loud crash, the darkness imploded on itself and the water disappeared as did the salty taste that had lingered in Gaius’ mouth until now. As Morgana closed the door behind her, it looked as if nothing had happened.

Vivien stood in the doorway to the nurse’s office with her mouth open and her eyes unblinking.

“I’m going to take care of Mr Pendragon. Call me should something out of the ordinary happen.” Vivien just continued to gape at him, far from appreciating the ironic pun. However, as he walked away she turned towards Dr Jal's office.

 

“Merlin?” Morgana stayed by the door. Merlin was pressed flush against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“What did he do?”

Merlin’s head shot up angrily and Morgana backed up a step.

“It’s not his fault.”

Morgana looked at him in disbelief. “Not his fault? So Gaius was talking bullshit? So the walls weren’t black and the floor wasn’t wet because Arthur said or did something stupid, like I fucking expected him to do?”

It was as if Thor’s hammer crashed against her. The sound was unnatural; her movement was unnatural; the way the building shook was unnatural and for a moment, Merlin thought he had just killed his own sister.

“Mana!” He scrambled out of his corner and sprang across the room to her side. Morgana was slumped against the wall, her head hanging to the side, her arms limp across her lap, her left leg slightly askew. “Mana, oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t – Mana, say something, please.” Merlin hooked a strand of her black hair behind her ear, softly stroking her skin and looking for blood; on her forehead, coming out of her ear or nose. Nothing. She wasn’t paler than usual, but that didn’t exactly calm Merlin. He knelt beside her and took her head in both hands.

“Morgana,” he whispered, eyes closed and concentrating, wishing she would answer. Slowly, she stirred, opened her confused eyes and blinked multiple times as if to shake off the shock. Merlin breathed out in relief. He kissed her, tears rolling down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Mana, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Merlin pulled away from her, sitting back against the wall, remaining close but not touching. His ‘I’m sorry’ became a whispered mantra barely audible from the cave he formed with his arms and hidden head. Morgana slid over to his side, put a hand in his hair and leaned her head on his shoulder. Merlin stopped whispering.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“It really isn’t his fault. It’s me.”

Morgana sighed. “Is this one of those ‘It’s not you, it’s me’-break-up-scenarios? Because you do know that, no one stays friends after that. Not that I’m sure I want him to stay friends with you, not after this. Whatever he did or didn’t do.”

“He just realised what a freak I am,” mumbled Merlin into his arms.

“What an idiot. I could have told him that, weeks ago.”

“You’re really not helping, Mana.”

Merlin suddenly raised his head, shaking Morgana off in the process. He got up off the ground and stood towering over his sister. She looked up at him questioningly. “You have to go.”

“Why?”

“Just, you have to – they know now. Fuck, this is all Arthur’s fault. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“What? Wait, are you- what? You’re still breaking up with him, right? I’m confused.”

“I should have never gotten involved with him. He made things so much worse. I mean look at me, I’m a fucking wreck. Everyone knows now, which means you’re in danger too and it wasn’t even worth it. I mean, he’s a self-centred, destructive, arrogant, deranged idiot.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Morgana’s eyes softened and she slowly got up and took his hand in hers.

“What?”

She nodded at the wall behind Merlin. It was glaringly white and on it sat a colourful butterfly, one that Merlin had seen before.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” cursed Merlin as he saw it. “I really hate him.” He leaned his head against Morgana’s shoulder, his anger having dissipated completely by now.

“Of course you do.”

He hugged her tightly, breathing in deeply and smoothing out her hair across her back.

“You’re saying goodbye, aren’t you?”

“You need to go. Call Gwen, ask her to help you. Don’t go back to him, Mana.”

Morgana wanted to protest, but she knew just as well as Merlin that nothing was speculation anymore as it had been before. It wasn’t schizophrenia believing in the ability to do magic anymore. It was real now. They had all seen that Merlin Dewin was capable of magic beyond anyone’s imagination and whatever suspicions they may have had of Morgana up to now had probably been confirmed. Merlin was right. The possibility that they would lock her up alongside him had increased immensely after Merlin’s breakdown.

“If you land in here as well, I will definitely kill Arthur.”

“You should have run away that morning when they came to get you. We should have run away.”

“Yeah, we should have. But we didn’t.”

“Why not?” Morgana was crying now. Merlin couldn’t answer. He broke the hug and pushed her towards the door.

“Go.”

His eyes followed her as she hurried down the hallway. Merlin made to close his door as she turned the corner, but the sight of Gaius being guided away by security on either side made him freeze. Dr Jal and Nurse Vivien were standing near the large glass doors that led outside and watched as Gaius walked through them, before turning around and approaching Merlin’s room. Merlin knew that there was no way he could talk himself out of this one.

 

~

 

The door jammed into Arthur’s spine and he called out angrily. “Ow, hang on.” He was surprised to see Gwen standing in front of the door, exasperated, furious and most of all concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?”

She closed the door behind her, rolling her eyes at Arthur who had sat down on the bed with a childish pout.

“Believe it or not, your father called me. Because, he fucking cares about you.”

Arthur scoffed at that. “He doesn’t care. He only thinks that his future daughter-in-law might calm me down so that he can fuck off again without any guilt.” At the same time, however, Gwen’s warning shot through his mind again. You won’t know when to stop.

“This might sound a bit drastic now, but you know sometimes, just sometimes, I would love to just hit you over the head with a very heavy cooking pan and hope that it will set your ridiculous brain right. Arthur, he came here today didn’t he?” Gwen threw up her arms in exasperation as if the actual status of Arthur and Uther’s relationship was so obvious that no one but themselves could miss it.

“Because Gaius forced him to. He’s never visited before.” Arthur knew he was being childish, but somehow he couldn’t help it.

This time, however, Gwen actually did hit him over the head, not with a pan, but if she wanted to she could put enough strength into her arm to make it hurt. “Because you kept saying that you didn’t want him here. If he hated you, he would have done anything to make your life miserable instead of complying with your wishes. If he didn’t give a fuck about you, do you really think the two of you would fight constantly? Both of you are such children. My God!”

She was standing in front of him now, looking down at his exposed neck where the sand-coloured hair tickled his skin as he put his head in his hands. “I really fucked up this time, Gwen.”

“More than usual?”

His head bobbed up and down, indicating a nod.

“With your father?”

“No...well, maybe. Apparently. No, I mean with Merlin.”

Gwen sighed and placed her right hand on his neck, stroking the sensitive skin and he bumped his head against her stomach, revelling in the comfort it gave him. Considering how close Gwen and he were, it wasn’t entirely surprising that his father thought of Gwen as a possible daughter-in-law. Of course, he’d never actually admit that to his father, especially since Arthur had also made it very obvious that he was gay.

“What did you-“

Gwen didn’t get any further as the door burst open and Morgana came storming in. Arthur jumped up off the bed, pushing Gwen away from him slightly in the process.

“You total dickhead. Whatever you did, you have to apologise, and you totally owe us and I fucking hate you. You awful, disgusting, insolent, brainless, arrogant, selfish –“

“-daft, condescending-“ Gwen chimed in.

“-ignorant, bloody fucktard of a stupid sodding asshole.” The last seven words were punctuated with blows to his chest, which Arthur didn’t fend off. He felt pangs of guilt with every word coming out of her mouth and every tear rolling down her cheeks.

“They know about Merlin and he’s just sent me away or else they’re going to lock me up as well, and it’s your stupid fault. You better fucking put this right.”

“What? No, fuck, what?” Arthur sat back down in shock. “I didn’t mean to. Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry.”

Gwen looked from Morgana to Arthur and back. “What do they know about Merlin?”

Arthur ignored her and looked up at Morgana with pleading eyes. “I’m an idiot. I... I forgot that he can’t control it and I said something...”

“Arthur, forget it. Merlin’s panicking, something’s happening, I can feel it. You have to help us. Me. You have to help me.” There was a panic in Morgana’s voice now that Arthur found nerve-wracking. “I need to get out of here and –“ She stopped talking at Arthur’s gesture. He put a hand on Gwen’s arm, guiding her towards the door.

“Gwen, get her out of here without anyone noticing, and tell my father to come back tomorrow. Go.”

Gwen nodded, turning into her business-self. “Give Morgana your shirt and trousers, Arthur. Do you have some of your pills left?”

Arthur nodded.

“Take two or three.”

“What? You want me to sedate myself?”

“Yes, that way you can deny liability for whatever happened and Uther can sue the clinic and get you out of here without any trouble. You tried to kill yourself, but you’re not dangerous to others so there is no need for you to be fully sedated.” Gwen helped Morgana put on the clothes as quickly as possible. Arthur remained rooted to the spot, uncertain. Morgana looked unsure as well.

“Guys, this is my job. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. Uther finds you sedated out of your mind tomorrow, gets furious, and threatens the clinic. I make sure that the right kind of people publish the right kind of story: voila, it’s a scandal. Health system needs to be investigated. In all that confusion, chaos, fear, and human rights debate about whether people in psychiatric asylums need to be sedated to such enormous extent, we can get you out easily. Merlin might not be as easy, but it would give us a good start. Now, do as I’ve told you, and make sure you’re still under when Uther comes by tomorrow morning at around 11 o’clock.”

Arthur nodded. “I can do that.”

“You better,” hissed Morgana, throwing him an angry look.

“Good. Let’s go Morgana. Arthur, promise me something,” said Gwen, turning back at the door.

Arthur raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“You thank your father for what he is about to do for you, is that clear?”

“Yeah…yes.” Arthur tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and turned away from the door to try to hide his tears. He looked out of the window and saw how Merlin was forcefully pushed into a small van with bars at the window, like a prisoner.

“Merlin, I’m sorry,” whispered Arthur, fully aware that Merlin was probably not actually going to hear him. He hoped Merlin would know anyway.

Once he saw the girls get safely into Gwen’s car and drive off, he pulled up the loose floorboard from under his bed and took out three orange pills. He swallowed one now, knowing that he’d officially get two more in an hour at lunch. Then he’d just wait.

 

~

 

“Your father looks exhausted, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know. Gwen just said that they had a very heated debate in parliament today. Without results,” he added at Morgana’s questioning look. She slumped back in her chair, feeling disappointed. She knew that things could take forever in parliament, but this type of ‘forever’ was costing Merlin, who was still stuck in a psychiatric hospital up in Scotland.

“What did you do today?” asked Arthur, trying to distract Morgana from her depressing thoughts.

She sighed. “I lost a battle with that homepage. I tried to set up a new petition, but the server crashed or something and then I had to reorganise half the page before I could put it back up again – without the new petition, of course. I didn’t dare do it again with a fragile server like that.”

“Change domain?”

Morgana shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it. Anyway, then I wrote a letter to Merlin, describing Freya and how she licked Kilgharrah clean for nearly twenty minutes last night. We need to take a picture of her. Merlin’s always loved dogs.”

“Okay.”

It had taken nearly seven months, two very rushed lawsuits and three petitions before Merlin had been transferred from the horrific asylum he’d been driven off to that ‘fateful day’, as Gwen liked to call it, into the more liberal one in Scotland. Where he was allowed to walk in the park, write letters and even call them occasionally and where they didn’t hand out drugs with every meal.

In the back of their minds they all knew that it could still take years before Merlin was officially released and could come live with them, but what they had now was acceptable.

At first Morgana had hidden in Ireland where she lived in a small cottage near Bantry. Gwen had been there on holiday once when she had needed to escape the madness that was Arthur and Uther and it had seemed like the perfect place for Morgana to lay low. Getting her across was fairly easy with Uther’s money, Gwen’s contacts and Arthur’s ruthlessness when it came to following rules. They had made a great team.   
Arthur had sent her money for food and lodgings and kept her informed about Merlin’s situation though there never was much to inform her about, since Merlin wasn’t allowed to contact anyone and visitors had to go through an excruciating bureaucratic process to gain access.   
In those seven months, Arthur had been able to see Merlin only once. Gaius had helped him. With his contacts and qualifications the people responsible had sort of turned a blind eye and given him 30 minutes with Merlin.

 _Arthur had been searched four times going in. The doors here weren’t made out of glass that simply looked a bit dirty, but out of solid iron that looked foreboding. Merlin’s cell, because it couldn’t be called anything else, only had a tiny window that didn’t let in enough light. There was a cupboard, a bed and a sink, but no desk or chair and when Arthur entered Merlin occupied the entire bed, so that Arthur was left to sit on the cold stone floor._

 _Merlin looked at him but it looked like it took a great effort to focus on one spot._

 _“Arthur?” It was a sickly whisper and sure enough, Merlin coughed violently. Arthur’s hand shot up to comfort Merlin, guide him into a hug or make him slap his face. More than ever before, Arthur felt that he deserved to be slapped for what had happened._

 _Surprisingly, it had been Morgana who had told Arthur that Merlin would have been discovered one day anyway and that it wasn’t necessarily Arthur’s fault. They later found out, thanks to some research Gaius had done in his excess of free time, that Dr Jal had known that Merlin’s magic was real. Merlin's father had more or less ordered and paid him generously to break Merlin and cause a violent magical reaction that would have gotten him locked away for the rest of his life. He hadn’t quite fulfilled his duty since Merlin hadn’t actually hurt anyone, but at that point it had looked as if he had succeeded nevertheless. Merlin was in a place that looked like nothing could ever escape it, not even the tiniest flea._

 _Of the 30 minutes, they spent 20 just simply holding and comforting each other, Arthur’s guilty tears drying on Merlin’s shoulder. They each understood what the other wanted to say with that hug, but they didn't speak the actual words._

 _“They inject me with something every day. Not today, but I think that’s because they don’t want you to cause a scene,” said Merlin painfully slow after they had both calmed down._

 _“Jesus fuck! Do they give you enough food? You look terrible!”_

 _“Not good enough for a date?”_

 _“No way. I’m not taking you out looking like this. I need some meat on those bones.”_

 _Merlin’s laugh turned into another coughing fit and Arthur apologised.  
“Don’t. I’m glad you’re here.” Merlin’s eyes welled up again and he tried to blink the tears away, but was almost too weak for even that. _

_“Morgana is fine. She sends her love, hugs and kisses. She’s in a safe place and we thought that maybe once you’re out of here, we can get her back to England so she can live with us.”_

 _“Sounds like a plan.”_

 _Arthur nodded, trying to look hopeful and strong, but it was difficult when confronted with the miserable reality._

 _“What day is it?” asked Merlin._

 _“Wednesday.”_

 _“No, the date.”_

 _“January, 16th.”_

 _Merlin’s eyes saddened. “I missed Christmas.”_

 _“You won’t this year.”_

 _The door opened to let Arthur out, the guard waiting rather pointedly with his hand on it, ready to lock Merlin back up. As he got up, Arthur looked back down and whatever silent agreement they had before, he needed to say it to Merlin’s face at least once. “I’m sorry.”_

 _Merlin blinked once, before closing his eyes completely with a small smile on his lips. The door closed with a deafening clang and Arthur was led back outside into the cold winter._

 

He had never written to Morgana describing the precise conditions in that hospital. All he had told her was that Merlin was looking okay, considering the circumstances, that the drugs were having no effect on his intelligence or beauty and that Arthur had told him that they would get him out. She didn’t need to know.

Three months later, it was over anyway. His father had managed to get Merlin out of there and up to Scotland and Morgana had moved in with them, this time going by plane.

Since then, Arthur and Morgana had been to see Merlin a few times already. Sometimes Gwen came with them, taking Morgana shopping after seeing Merlin to distract her.

 

In two weeks, they would be flying up to Edinburgh again and drive the remaining 150 miles up north to visit him for the weekend. This time Uther wanted to come with them and take a look at the new conditions Merlin lived in.

There had been a very testing moment when Uther had thought that Morgana was Arthur’s girlfriend, due to the fact that they had spent nearly every waking minute together in the beginning and Morgana was not very successful in trying to stop the two men from yelling at each other at the top of their voices. Gwen had stepped in, dragged Uther away into his office and explained the entire situation.

Uther had apologized the next day at breakfast rather formally and awkwardly, but then he had asked about the gay rights situation in the United Kingdom, admitting that he had never much thought about it to his shame. He had listened to Arthur and Morgana’s detailed description of the political situation for nearly two hours and missed his first meeting of the morning. Arthur denied later on that he had had a spring in his step all day long after that, but Morgana had filmed it with her camera and loved making fun of him for it.

Uther still didn’t know everything about Merlin, but Arthur had agreed with the girls that he should take things slow when it came to Merlin, both with Merlin and with his father. For now, they were all good. As well as they could be, anyway.

 

Morgana got up from her lounge chair and crawled onto the swing hammock and into Arthur’s lap, her legs outstretched across the green cushions and her head on his shoulder.

“Merlin’s lonely.”

She’d used that explanation a few times already. Most of the time Arthur believed her and hoped that comforting his sister would help Merlin as well, but sometimes he thought it was just Morgana incapable of admitting she had feelings too.

Gwen found them like that an hour later, both fast asleep. She picked up Morgana’s legs, crawling in next to Arthur, leaning against his other shoulder.

Arthur opened his eyes at the movement.

“We’re going to need a bigger hammock once Merlin’s back.”

“Yeah, we will.”

 

 **The End**


End file.
